


Hacking Away At The System

by orphan_account



Category: A-Team (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Early Work, Gen, Humor, IHTFP, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Students are going missing at a prestigious university. Can the A-Team find them before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hacking Away At The System

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally appeared in the fanzine "Plans Scams & Vans #2", published in 1996.
> 
>  
> 
> The following story is written entirely for fun and not for any profit. No attempt is made to supersede or infringe upon the copyrights held by any television or film companies upon which this story is based.

#  chapter one

 _Cambridge Massachusetts, August 1985._

The last days of summer were in full swing along the banks of the Charles River, and the not-so-clear waters between the Harvard and Longfellow bridges were filled with small sailboats and the occasional daring wind-surfer. Students all across the campus of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which was located along the river's edge, were reveling in the warm, beautiful weather, which would likely last only a few more weeks before autumn would return once again, bringing a new semester of classes with the falling temperatures. Young students were starting to arrive for freshman orientation and beginning to learn the 'ins and outs' of life at the 'Tute. Stereos were blaring music of all styles and rhythms from the windows of the dorms and frat houses up and down Amherst Alley on the waterfront, 'Ultimate Frisbee' games started up on the lawn in front of Kresge Auditorium, and sunbathers flocked to the grasses by the Great Sail. Yet beneath the surface of this seemingly tranquil picture of college life, there was a sense of anxiety and tension in the air. Something terrible had been happening that summer to students at the Institute, something more horrible than any thesis project or final exam, or anything else they could have imagined. Everyone was scared, and worst of all, they felt completely helpless to do anything about it.

The four members of the A-Team climbed the imposing steps at 77 Massachusetts Avenue and entered the giant, cathedral-like lobby. They appeared very much out of place amidst the young students and older, distinguished professors who all hurried past them. No one paid the strangers much mind, however, as everyone was too preoccupied with thoughts of tests and problem sets, research projects and looming deadlines.

"Hannibal, remind me, what are we doing here again?" Templeton Peck asked, wishing he was back in LA entertaining the lovely young model that resided across the hall from his newly-acquired luxury apartment.

"We're here to help locate some missing students. And we're gonna get _paid_ for it too. I should think you'd be overjoyed by that prospect, Face."

"I don't know, Hannibal. I just don't like working for big institutions, okay? Big institutions tend to be very closely tied to big government, not to mention the military. Are you sure this isn't some kind of elaborate trap?"

"The guy came out all the way to LA to contact us, and Mr. Lee seemed to think he was legitimate."

"Mr. Lee did, huh? Well sometimes I'd like a second opinion on a job, besides that of one of your alter-egos."

"Wow, MIT," Murdock said reverently, gazing up all around. "Home of some of the finest scientific minds of our time. Why, just think of it - one of these young students passing by right now might be the next Einstein! Or Heisenberg! Or Gauss!"

"All I see is a bunch of nerds," BA replied, looking around with disgust. "I don't even remember how we got here in the first place. If you guys drugged me again..."

"BA, that is a terrible stereotypical attitude. Just cause these people are mentally gifted doesn't mean they're nerds," argued Murdock, ignoring the sergeant's mention of travel arrangements.

"Well, actually, they do look kind of nerdy to me," Face put in. _Too bad the missing students weren't from Wellesley, or Boston U., right up the river,_ he thought, _where the co-eds might be a little more appealing..._

"Can't you just practically _smell_ the intellectual stimulation in the air?" Murdock insisted.

BA just grimaced. "What I smell is more like a load of bull -"

"All right guys, let's go find our client," Hannibal interrupted, and they headed down the seemingly endless corridor towards their destination.

The secretary looked up with obvious surprise and concern in her expression as the Team entered the office of the Institute's President. "May I... help you, gentlemen?" she asked warily, her hand reaching reflexively for the phone and wondering how fast she could get the Campus Police to respond to an emergency call.

"We have an appointment with President Graves," Hannibal responded politely as he stepped forward.

"Oh really..." The woman found this news rather difficult to believe. "And may I ask who you are?"

"Well, um, we're here on a special contracting job..." Hannibal started to explain.

"Ah, Mr. Smith!" A stocky, gray-haired man called, stepping out from his back office. "Thank you for coming today. Please, please, come on in." He seemed eager to usher the Team into his back office and away from the suspicious eyes of his secretary.

"Gentlemen, please, sit down," the man said, and the Team settled in. "I'm delighted you decided to come. We really need your help."

"We hope we _can_ help, Dr. Graves," said Hannibal. "We've handled missing person cases before, but we'll need all the information you can provide us with."

"Unfortunately, I don't have much more information to give you than what I already related to your associate, Mr. Lee. In the past two months, four of our top students have mysteriously disappeared. Two of them were graduate students, the other two undergraduates. Here, I have photographs of each of them for you. There are no clues as to their whereabouts, no witnesses as to whether they were abducted, or ran off on their own, or..."

"...Or killed?" Face finished for him, looking over the pictures and then handing them to Hannibal.

Dr. Graves fidgeted uncomfortably in his leather chair. "Yes, killed. We just don't know. But as you can surely imagine, these events have the student body terrified, and the students' families as well. Many of the parents of our undergraduates are demanding an answer as to what happened before they will allow their children to return here for the fall semester.

More than a few of our incoming freshman have not arrived as scheduled for orientation activities due to security concerns."

"Understandably," Hannibal said. "Dr. Graves, there are a few things about this case that puzzle me. The graduate students who are missing, apparently their absence wasn't noticed for over a week in both cases. Didn't _someone_ , one of their friends or roommates maybe, notice they were gone?"

"No, actually, they all claim they didn't. As you mentioned, these _are_ graduate students we're talking about, and they spent most of their time in their labs doing their research work. Our students are very motivated individuals, Colonel Smith. People they knew figured they were just busy running important experiments and putting in extra hours in the lab."

"Then why didn't their co-workers notice their absence?" Face asked.

Dr. Graves shrugged. "They thought the students in question were just out sick, or taking some time off unannounced. Again, not that uncommon here. These are individuals who work very hard and sometimes put themselves under more pressure than they can handle," he replied.

"I bet." Face raised his eyebrows and looked over at Hannibal, who he could see shared his thoughts.

"Well, it's not our place to judge what goes on here, Doctor," Hannibal said, "but I will say you haven't given us a lot to go on. I won't promise anything. Circumstances would tend to support what you suggested to Mr. Lee - it looks suspiciously like an inside job. No one unfamiliar with this place could pull it off so cleanly. But the question of _why_ still remains unclear. Why take the students? If we can solve that mystery, we might be able to get a lead on their whereabouts."

"I bet they were abducted by UFO's," Murdock commented, but no one paid much attention to his remark except Dr. Graves, who looked at the man with more than a little concern.

"Blackmail? Or ransom money?" suggested BA, but Dr. Graves shook his head.

"We have received no ransom demands or contacts at all. Neither have the families of the students involved. I fear something much more... diabolical... is behind this whole thing."

Hannibal pulled out a cigar and began to methodically remove its wrapper. "I think our best strategy would be to spread out and go undercover, see if we can find any leads that might have been missed in the 'official' investigations. If we've got an inside job to worry about, that's where we need to start - the inside."

"What do you have in mind, Hannibal?" Face asked, uncomfortably recognizing the gleam that the colonel was starting to get in his eyes.

"Well, perhaps Dr. Graves, being more familiar with this place, might have some suggestions." Hannibal turned to Graves. "What do you say, any ideas how we could blend in around here? Any available jobs on campus that would allow for a lot of contact with the people here, and access to the different buildings at all times of the day and night?"

The Institute's president thought for a moment, looking over each of the Team members. Then he fixed his gaze on BA. "Our Physical Plant could always take on a new employee without suspicion. That way you would have plenty of access to the buildings."

BA didn't seem too pleased with the idea. "Man, I don't wanna be no janitor," he started, but Hannibal liked the idea and cut him off before he could complain anymore.

"Relax, BA, it would just be a cover, and the doctor's right, it's a great idea. Now what about the rest of us?"

"Well, hmm... Ah! Here's a thought. John Walker, one of the missing graduate students, was a floor tutor in one of our dormitories. Tutors live in the dorms and get to know the other residents quite well, acting mainly as role models and guidance counselors, not really as academic tutors. One of you could take over Walker's vacated position. That way you could get in close with some of the students who knew him best, maybe learn something we missed or that they wouldn't reveal to the police." Graves paused for a moment. "I'll warn you, though. Fifth East, the floor of the East Campus dorm where he resided, is a rather... well, 'unusual' place, to put it mildly."

Hannibal grinned. "Great. We've got an 'unusual' guy who'd probably fit in perfectly. Right, Murdock?"

The captain looked up happily. "You know it, Colonel!"

"Hannibal, don't you think Murdock is a little _old_ to be passed off as a graduate student?" Face objected.

"At this school, not really," Graves responded, then he turned to Murdock. "If anyone asks, just say you took some time off from school, or you're working on your third or fourth degree. Happens all the time around here." Graves focused on Face for a while. "You know, I think you could probably fit in quite well as a visiting scientist or professor."

Face responded with a nervous laugh. "Er, well, actually science was never my strong suit."

"But you're great with numbers, Lieutenant," Hannibal countered.

"And figures," Murdock put in teasingly.

"I could put you in the Mathematics department," Graves said, "or in the Management School in the Economics department."

"Ah, now _that_ sounds more up my alley," Face agreed.

"All right, that leaves me," Hannibal declared, "and I have a terrific idea of my own. Doctor Graves, do you think you could get me in on your campus police force?"

"Aw, Hannibal!" BA objected.

"I could probably arrange something," Graves said thoughtfully, then nodded his head. "Yes, give me several hours to get everything ready. I want all of this to run smoothly. And, above all, _quietly_. Remember, Colonel Smith, your presence here is only known and agreed upon by myself, a few members of the MIT Corporation, and a handful of other Institute officials. We don't want this scandal to spread any further, we want it _stopped_."

"We'll remember, Doctor Graves, and do our best." Hannibal stood up to leave. "We're at the Hyatt right on Memorial Drive, rooms 305 and 306. Give us a call when you're ready for us to move."

"Fine. Until then." Graves dismissed them and waited for the Team leave. Then he started flipping through his address book; he had a number of important phone calls to make.

  


#  chapter two

"I'm tellin' you Faceguy, those kids were abducted by aliens!"

"C'mon, Murdock..."

"I'm serious, Face! I just have this hunch that tells me it _had_ to be aliens. That's why they all disappeared so completely, and without any traces or witnesses. Happens all the time. You'll see, all I have to do is figure out a way to contact the aliens myself, and then negotiate with them to release the students."

"You mean, maybe work out a trade with them to take you instead? I think BA would like that idea." For a moment Face considered what an alien confronted with Murdock and his rather abnormal personality would make of him, and the human race in general. Not that Face believed in anything so silly as aliens or UFO's, of course. But it was an amusing thought.

Murdock was much too distracted by the magnificent sight before him to respond to Face's comment. They were walking east across campus, Murdock to check in to his assignment on Fifth East as floor tutor and Face to locate his appointed office in the Sloan School. After leaving the Infinite Corridor and walking down the open-air path towards Ames Street, they were now approaching one of the more unusual and controversial art "installations" on campus grounds. Standing over ten feet tall, it was constructed of black-painted sheet metal twisted and bolted together in a strange, arch-like structure. It was a sculpture entitled "The Great Sail," and while the administration liked to show it off as a testament to the Institute's commitment to the arts, most students regarded it disdainfully as a testament of how the administration wasted their tuition money.

Murdock stared at the structure reverently, as if it were the legendary Holy Grail and not the work of one Aldus Calder. "Wow, Face, will you look at this thing! Isn't it something!" he cried appreciatively, rushing up to admire it from all sides. He walked directly under it and looked up through the opening at the top of the archway, completely mesmerized.

"It sure is... something," Face agreed, leaving his comments on the subject at that. Murdock pressed his ear against its metal side, as if listening in on a conversation only he could hear. Several students were passing by and gave them some rather curious glances. "Uh, Murdock, do you think we can get moving now?"

"Ssssssh..." Murdock hushed him, closing his eyes for a moment to concentrate on what the Sail was saying to him. Face waited impatiently for about five more seconds and was about to physically drag the captain off when Murdock finally broke away, his brown eyes wide with excitement. "Man, the vibes off of this thing are _intense_! It's like, like... there's a _presence_ trapped in there, a great spirit of some kind."

"A great spirit, huh? Well, seeing how close this 'East Campus' dormitory is to this... thing, you should have plenty of time to try to contact it. _Later._ " Face could just about see the wheels spinning in Murdock's head at the suggestion and immediately regretted making the remark, even though it did manage to convince Murdock to move along and let them continue on their way. Face sighed and tried to reassure himself that this job wasn't going to be as much of a drag as he was expecting it to be.

* * *

Janet Morgan leaned back in her chair, propped her bare feet up on the desk top, and gazed morosely out the window into the courtyard. She was just one of many undergraduates at MIT who had stayed on campus through the summer, either to get on-campus jobs, do research work, or just to avoid being bored by spending the summer at home. It was Tuesday, and the late afternoon sunlight reflected brightly off the leaves of the old maple trees in the courtyard below. The insistent chords and screeching vocals of a recent Rush song echoed loudly between the two parallel buildings that made up the dormitory known as East Campus - or simply, "Fred," as some preferred to call it for mysterious reasons. Janet watched a boisterous group of guys from across the parallel that she vaguely recognized playing volleyball in the sandpit, and she tried to figure out exactly why she felt so miserable.

She'd punted going into her research lab that afternoon with great plans of enjoying the beautiful day, but on returning to her room she couldn't actually think of anything she really _did_ want to go do. Everything she could think of she was either too bored of, didn't have enough money for, or wasn't any fun unless she could drag along some of her friends. Checking down the corridor to see who else was around the hall, the only person she could find was Charles, and he was too preoccupied with reaching the next highest level on his new video game to remotely consider going out and doing anything. Still, any company was better than none, so she sat there in his room, occasionally trying to engage him in some sort of conversation. She was strangely enjoying annoying him by disrupting his concentration and watching him get increasingly irritated at her and at the game. After all, it always was better to have company when feeling lousy.

She played with a strand of her dark brown hair, pulling it out from her pony tail and twisting it around her finger. "I hear there's a pretty good band playing over at the Middle East tonight," she suggested to Charles.

"Oh yeah?" replied Charles, not particularly interested and not gazing up from the television screen in front of him. He looked like he hadn't left his room all day, or even bothered to take a shower. His wavy blond hair was sticking up at all odd angles, and he had a good two days' worth of stubble on his chin. The lights from the video display reflected eerily off his thick, round glasses, twisting his appearance from that of just slovenly into something truly frightening. _The Mutant-Zombie-Nerd-from-Hell_ , Janet thought, looking at him and shaking her head in disgust. Still, she continued to try to converse with him.

"Yeah, Michele was telling me about them. 'Satan's Spawn,' that's what they were called. She saw them play there last time they were in town and she said it was a real riot. Might be worth checking out. "

"Huh. Yeah, I guess... DAMN! God _dammit!_ " He threw down his controller and ran his hands angrily through his disheveled hair. "That's the _third_ time that bastard's taken me out! This sucks," he insisted, kicking a half-full box of Cheerios out of his way. Several little O's spilled out onto the grimy brown carpet.

"This sucks all right," Janet agreed with a sigh, turning her attention back to the volleyball game. What good was punting when going to do work would have been more interesting than hanging out with this loser?

She heard the entrance door from the stairs to the main hallway open and then clang shut loudly, and she turned to watch the corridor to see if it was someone she knew. Whoever it was, he was whistling cheerfully to himself. It sounded like... "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?" In August? Well, actually, she supposed that wasn't too unusual for around here, but she still didn't know who it could be. The mystery was solved when she spied the tall figure in the baseball cap who she definitely didn't know stop in front of the door across the hall from Charles's room, check the room number, and proceed to fish out a key from his pocket and open the door. Charles, too annoyed with his ill-luck to try the game again, turned around to investigate the newcomer's arrival himself.

Neither of them said anything as they watched the still-whistling man check out the room, toss a large duffel bag on the bed, and then struggle for a few minutes trying to open the window.

"These stupid windows are always getting stuck," Janet remarked finally, easing out from her chair and walking over to the other room. "Here, let me help."

"Oh, gee thanks," the stranger said, turning around to give Janet a quick smile. _Definitely looks too old to be undergraduate_ , she thought, trying to figure out what he was doing moving into the dorm. But there tended to be all sorts of people floating in and out of the dorms in the summertime: transfer students, freshman arriving early for special courses, visiting scientists too cheap to try to get a real apartment, that sort of thing. Therefore it wasn't that out of the ordinary for someone just to appear even this late in the summer.

The two of them pushed up hard and pounded on the window frame until it finally came unstuck and slid upward, allowing a strong breeze to float through and dissipate the stale smell of the dusty, empty room.

"Ah, thanks, thanks a lot!" the man said happily. "My dog Billy just couldn't stand to be cooped up in here without some fresh air."

"Your dog? You know that they don't allow us to have pets around here," Janet asked.

"Really? That's terrible. Everyone should have a pet. Well, trust me, Billy won't disturb no one, and I can guarantee that you won't even know he's around!"

"Huh." Janet leaned against the windowsill, eyeing her new floormate carefully. "Just who are you, anyway?"

"Oh, my name is HM Murdock, I'm a new grad student," he said, extending a hand in greeting.

"Janet Morgan," she replied, shaking his hand. "Lemme guess, you must be working on your second or third PhD now, right?" She had him pegged as one of those permanent-student types - guys who never wanted to take on the responsibility of getting a real job and so they lived endlessly off of university and government funding. He had that slightly psycho look about him that those types always did, like the one in her lab that had been on that one project for over seven years now...

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" He gave her an amazed stare, but she just shrugged.

"Just one of those things. But then, if that's the case, why are you moving into EC? This is just an undergrad dorm. Is this some sort of temporary deal for the rest of the summer?"

"Well, in a way. I'm the new floor tutor... temporary tutor, at least."

Janet was shocked and more than slightly miffed by this news. "New tutor? You mean the administration just went ahead and assigned a new tutor to this floor without consulting us? That's against house policy! I mean, they don't even know yet that John is - that he won't..." she stopped, not wanting to finish saying what she didn't want to even consider. She'd liked John, liked him a lot, and his disappearance was certainly one of the factors that was making her feel so depressed lately.

"That's MIT for you, Jan," Charles called from across the hall, speaking up now that his favorite topic - how the Institute screwed everyone over - had been broached. "You see, they don't give a rat's ass about how we feel. They don't care that John's missing. It's all politics to them, that's all."

"Look, like I said, I'm only here as a fill-in. Just until they can assign someone officially, or find... well, find out what happened to the last tutor," the new resident said quietly to Charles, apparently not wanting to get in the middle of the squabble. "I heard about what happened to your friend John, and the other students. I'm really sorry. But... I'm sure they'll turn up, they'll be just fine. We'll - I mean, I'm sure the administration is doing everything they can to find out what happened."

"Hmph." Janet didn't have quite as low an opinion of the administration as Charles did, but she didn't think they were as worked up over the missing students as they should be either.

Nobody said anything for a while, so Charles turned his attention back to his video game system, which caught Murdock's attention immediately. "Wow, is that an Atari 5200 you've got there? Man, I've been wanting to get my hands on one of those babies for a long time."

Charles's mood brightened, now that he seemed to have found someone who might share his gaming obsession. "Yeah, its real cool. I can't wait for the 7800 to come out though, that looks totally awesome." He booted up his new game once again and the title sequence and music came on.

Murdock let out a squawk of delight. " _Star Raiders!_ You've got _Star Raiders?!_ I read about that one last month in 'Electronic Gaming.' Can I give it a try? Please? Please?" he asked eagerly, practically bouncing up and down because he was so excited.

"Yeah sure, be my guest," said Charles, tossing over the extra controller, which Murdock grabbed and held lovingly in his hands. "I can't get past ensign rank myself, those stupid flashing ships keep knocking me out."

Murdock grinned and pulled over the chair Janet had been sitting in before. "Well just you lemme at them suckers, I'll send them flyin' back through hyper-space so fast they ain't gonna know what hit 'em!"

Janet, observing this scene, sighed dejectedly and gave up on any hopes of doing anything interesting that afternoon, not with these two video game junkies at least. She headed back down the corridor towards her own room, stopping off only in the kitchen to grab a pint of chocolate-fudge ice cream, which always complemented feeling sorry for herself so well.

* * *

Face looked around in appreciation at his appointed surroundings. _Maybe I was wrong about this job after all_ , he thought as he sank back into the soft leather recliner in his office and looked out the large picture window in front of him that revealed the Charles River and the skyline of Boston across it. This room would certainly be a pleasant "base of operations" for the next few days, he decided. He pulled out his pocket comb and mirror and fixed his hair, wondering what sort of look he should go for in his attire while on the job. Scholarly, but of course showing off his superior sense of style. _A management professor should look like he is at home in the business world. Armani...? Might be a little too chic for around here. Perhaps Calvin Klein would be the way to go..._

Face was still busy contemplating which suit to wear tomorrow for his first official day in residence in the department when there was a knock at the still-open door. It was Ms. Jennifer Collins, the head secretary for the Sloan School who had just before given him the key to this office, on President Graves' and the Department Chair's request. The Department Chair had been informed of the situation and had agreed to go along with this special undercover operation, even though he knew nothing of Templeton Peck's real identity.

"Hello again, Dr. Peck. I hope you find this office satisfactory for your needs?"

"Why yes, Ms. Collins, I think it will do just fine." He gave her one of his best smiles. She was quite an attractive young woman, tall and slender, with her straight blonde hair falling loosely down over her shoulders. Watching her, Face had a good idea of where he'd like to begin his... _in-depth_ investigation of the missing students.

"Good, very good," she replied warmly. "Your visit came as such a, well, _surprise_ to most of us that we were in a bit of a rush to find somewhere to accommodate you. But after reviewing the records of your work that the administration forwarded to us, I know everyone will be looking forward to meeting you and hearing about your research."

"I'm sure."

Ms. Collins invited Peck to the department's daily coffee hour later in the afternoon and then left before he could extend her an invitation to dinner. _Something I'll have to remember for later_ , he told himself, reclining back in his chair as he resumed musing over his new persona.

#  chapter three

Later that evening, Murdock sat on his bed methodically brushing out Billy's fur, something the invisible dog apparently had little patience for. He whined and whimpered and tried to squirm away, but to no avail.

"Now Billy, if you wouldn't put up such a fight and would let me do this more often you wouldn't have such a problem with those fleas buggin' you all the time! Tomorrow you're taking a bath, and that's it!" Billy finally had enough and struggled free of Murdock's grasp, and with a loud yelp jumped off the bed and tore out down the corridor. That was when Murdock looked over towards the door and noticed Janet standing there, watching the whole scene with a bemused expression on her face. She wasn't feeling too depressed anymore, just restless. The commotion coming from Murdock's room had caught her attention and she decided to spend some further time checking out their new "tutor." None of the other summer residents had paid much attention to his arrival. Most of them didn't pay much attention to anything going on in the world around them in general, and the "pre-frosh" were too busy checking out frat parties and other orientation activities at the moment.

"Your dog giving you a hard time?" Janet asked Murdock.

"Yeah, I think he needs a new flea collar or somethin'. What's up?"

Janet gave a lifeless shrug. "Nothing. As usual. I was thinking of heading over to Pritchett to get a frappe. You interested in coming along? Everyone else is busy watching old 'Star Trek' reruns for the fiftieth time, and there's nothing else to do around here."

"Sure, why not? I'll get one for Billy too, maybe that would soothe his nerves some."

As they headed towards the stairs Murdock asked, "I was wonderin', is there a reason why this one section of the hall is painted lack, and the lights are all orange? Is this like permanent Halloween around here?"

"I don't actually know, it was a long time ago that they painted it like this. I think it had something to do with how this floor used to be clothing-optional and really freaky. Like back in the seventies or something."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Janet gave a derisive laugh. "Like we're not freaky here still, I know. But the real weirdoes have all moved over to Senior House these days. We're all just too lazy to repaint the hallway."

They exited the building and turned towards Walker Memorial, the old student union building which, on the second floor, now housed a grungy little snack bar. The food and the decor were nothing to write home about, but it was open late and operated under the rather disdainful eye of the administration, which were reasons enough to earn it a loyal clientele with the students.

Being only slightly past eight in the evening, business was still slow and Janet and Murdock were able to get their orders taken care of in under ten minutes, near record time for the students and other clueless employees who worked behind the counter. The stereo was blaring loudly from the back room, an old Pink Floyd tune called "Brain Damage."

" _The lunatic is in my head..._ " Roger Waters was warbling, painfully off-key.

"Hey, they're playin' my theme song!" Murdock said happily as they grabbed a table near one of the windows, then he joined in equally off-key with Mr. Waters. " _You lock the door, and throw away the key, there's someone in my head but it's not me..._ "

"That's how this place'll make you feel sometimes, that's for sure," observed Janet, poking at her frappe with a straw. It was nice and thick, with super-sweet chocolate syrup swirled through the vanilla ice cream. "Sometimes I wonder what in the world possessed me to want to come here two years ago."

"If it's that bad, why don't you transfer somewhere else?" Murdock asked. "I mean, I'm sure if you're smart enough to get in here, you could go to any other school you'd want to."

"Yeah, I suppose. I don't know. I guess..." She sighed, trying to put her mixed feelings into words, "Well, this probably doesn't make any sense, but in a way I feel like this is the only place I ever _could_ have gone to. As much as it sucks sometimes, I couldn't see myself being happy anywhere else either." She paused to take a sip of her frappe.

"Damned if you do and damned if you don't?" Murdock suggested, and Janet nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so. See, I'm a misfit. That's my problem. I don't fit in, I _couldn't_ fit in at a 'normal' school even if I wanted to. Maybe I could have gone to Stanford or Princeton, or - God forbid - Harvard, but I couldn't deal with the people. They're all so... _normal_. Boring.

"At least at this place, we're _all_ misfits. Real smart when it comes to math and science, maybe, but all screwed up when it comes to other things. That's what makes this place home to me, you know? Even if I hate it most of the time, there's plenty of people just like me who hate it too. And we're all in it together and mutually hosed, which, I suppose, is a strangely satisfying experience." Janet stopped, thinking she was starting to ramble. "Does that make any sense?" she asked.

"Sure, definitely," Murdock replied. "Believe me, I know a thing or two about bein' a misfit and bein' surrounded by them. I wouldn't have it any other way!"

Janet didn't say anything for a minute, then slowly broke into a rare grin. "I should have figured someone with an invisible dog would understand."

* * *

They finished the frappes over an easy-going conversation and went back to the counter for some burgers and fries. By then the crowd in Pritchett was beginning to pick up. The volume on the stereo was climbing as well, now that someone had put on an old Led Zeppelin tape. Robert Plant's screeches reverberated all around the shoddy little room as residents of East Campus and Senior House wandered in. Murdock and Janet started up a game of ping-pong a little later, and much to Murdock's surprise she was actually quite good at it.

"You must play quite a bit, huh?" Murdock asked in between volleys.

"Well, the thing is, they have this lame phys. ed. requirement here, so I decided to take the lamest-looking class they offered. It was either ping-pong or 'Wellness,' and even I'm not _that_ lazy."

The game continued for a while, and Murdock decided to try to do a little of what he was supposed to be there for in the first place - investigating. Murdock asked Janet a bit more about the dorm and their floor in particular, and what being a house tutor would involve. From this line of questioning it was easy to lead into some specific questions about John Walker, the last tutor who was now missing. Janet seemed to have known him quite well, since he had been tutor there for over two years now. In fact, Murdock learned a few interesting details about him and his current position at the school that he decided he'd have to look into and mention to Hannibal and the others if the lead panned out.

Just as they were finishing up their third game, they were interrupted by a loud call for _"Jan-ieeeeeeeeee!"_ Janet turned to the door and smiled at the two approaching young people. One was a girl with shoulder length, curly brown hair, wearing a very loud pair of Bermuda shorts and a black Metallica t-shirt. The other was a young man with short-cropped black hair and wearing cut-offs and a Speed Racer t-shirt.

"Hey Michelle, Bill," Janet called back. The three of them hugged briefly. "What are you guys doing down here tonight?"

Bill shrugged and said, "Just punting around. It was real quiet over at Random, so we just figured we'd take a walk around."

Michele nudged Bill in the side and started to giggle. "Yeah, it was quiet all right... until you decided to start dropping firecrackers down the shaft! That's why we had to get the hell out of there before anyone figured out who did it."

"You did _what?!_ " Janet exclaimed.

"It was nothing, really!" Bill tried to argue. "I mean, it didn't look like anyone was even at home in any of the rooms along the shaft, so I just went up to the roof, and, well..."

"Never mind, I don't want to hear the details and become an accessory," Janet insisted. She remembered Murdock was there and introduced him to her friends. "These two are the terrors of 'Domfore,' over at Random House, Bill and Michele. Probably destined to blow the place up before they graduate."

"We're not _that_ bad," Michele insisted. "Well, not most of the time. Listen, you want to do some hacking tonight or something? This place is quieter than an Athena computer cluster when the network is down."

Janet shrugged and said, "Sure, why not. Murdock, you want to come along?"

"I dunno, I try to avoid computers in my free time. They do funny things to my brain waves."

"No, no, no, this type of hacking doesn't have anything to do with computers. And it's a lot of fun," Bill explained, getting a mischievous smile. "Trust me."

* * *

The patrol car slowly cruised down Vassar Street, passing by dimly lit Institute buildings and darkened, ancient factory buildings. Kendall Square and its environs certainly were not the most charming and scenic sections of Cambridge, and in the early morning hours the side streets around the MIT campus took on a decidedly menacing appearance.

Hannibal Smith sat in the front of the car next to his newly assigned partner, Detective Lou Harris. Actually her real name was Lorraine, but no one called her that, at least not if they wanted to live to see the next sunrise. Hannibal had decided he liked her style immediately.

"So you're here as some sort of observer, is that right?" She asked as they turned on to Massachusetts Avenue and headed up towards Central Square. "Don't know what you're expectin' to see, really. This neighborhood isn't really as bad as it looks. Most of the kids are smart enough to stay out of the rough spots after dark. Usually we just play chauffeur for them at night, runnin' them back from the library or their labs to their dorms." She let out a loud half-laugh, half-snort. "Boy, don't they love to complain if they have to wait too long, you'd think it was the end of the world. I say, if it's that big of a problem why didn't you just go to bed at a decent hour in the first place! Weird kids, I tell ya. You want to see a school that has to deal with some _real_ problems, they should send you down to the University of Pennsylvania, right smack in the middle of West Philly. Boy, what a shit-hole that is, I worked down there for a few years before I got this job and was I glad as all hell to get out of there..."

Lou liked to talk a lot. But that was okay with Hannibal. The less he had to hold up the conversation himself, the less details he had to supply on his cover. "Things are pretty bad out in LA where I work, too, that's why the administration here thought I might be able to give you guys some advice on how to improve your operations," he explained.

"Hmph. Always the same old story 'round here, whenever there's some trouble they just bring in some so-called 'experts' to write fancy long reports that no one ever really reads and certainly never make a damn bit of difference. But it does make for good PR." Lou pulled over by Hi-Fi Pizza and stopped the car. "Time for a break and to check in with usual gang of losers. C'mon, they make the best pizza in the area, at least past two in the morning..."

After chatting with the guys behind the counter and few of the late-night patrons, Hannibal and Lou grabbed a table near the big front windows so they could keep an eye on the street. Both of them had ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of the pepperoni and mushroom pie. After one bite Hannibal had to agree, the pizza was pretty good. "So, you think this school is just looking for some good publicity right now?"

"Absolutely," Lou stated, taking off her hat to shake out her shortly-cropped red hair. She was rather attractive, Hannibal noted, but probably didn't date too much. Most men would likely find her more than a bit intimidating. _Face wouldn't stand a chance with her_ , Hannibal thought, smiling to himself. "I mean, after all those kids disappearing lately? That's why you're _really_ here, isn't it? Because of all the trouble we've had trying to figure out what happened."

"I suppose, maybe that's _part_ of the reason..."

"Yeah, well, let me tell you, Smith, we've done everything we could to find out what happened, and there _are_ no clues. Nothing! And if anyone knows what happened, they aren't saying. We've talked with every person on campus who ever had any sort of close contact with those kids, and no one has given us a damn bit of useful information."

"Maybe it's a matter of _how_ you've asked them the questions. Maybe you need to stress more clearly how important it would be for them to tell everything they know."

"Or what? Or we send them home with a note to their parents saying they were naughty? Gimme a break, Smith! Half the kids here were ready to scream and threaten the school with harassment suits just for calling them in for questioning! The CP's aren't exactly the most popular group of people on campus to begin with, and we weren't making any more friends with this investigation -"

Lou's tirade was interrupted by a call on the police radio. "Yeah, was is it?" she barked, and listened as the static-filled response came. She sighed and put down the radio. "Great, just got a call to play taxi, and I have a feeling I know who it is. Screw 'em, I'm gonna get a second slice of pizza first..."

* * *

After sneaking around deserted corridors, finding a hidden access way and picking a lock or two, Murdock, Bill, Janet and Michele climbed up over the last high, vertical ledge on the very top of Building Seven and then slithered their way across the large concrete dome.

"Keep low," Bill said quietly to Murdock, pointing to the windows of a nearby laboratory building. "Sometimes people are working late, and it wouldn't do good for them to look out and see us climbing around up here."

"Yeah," Janet agreed, breathing a little heavy from the physical exertion of the climb. "The CP's sort of tolerate this stuff, but we could still get fined for being up here if we get caught."

They made it to the very top of Little Dome, and Murdock looked down, delighted at the sight of Mass. Ave. and the rest of Cambridge stretched out beneath them and the Boston skyline lit up across the river. "Wow... This _is_ pretty cool," he said. "You guys do this often?"

"Not often enough," replied Michele with a sigh, laying out on her back and looking up at the sky. "Up here, you can actually see the stars at night. Y'know, that's about the only thing I miss about not living in the country anymore."

Murdock looked up and had to agree with her. It was a beautiful, clear night, and streams and clusters of stars were everywhere. The sight reminded him of the nights in Texas when he was younger. A _lot_ younger, he mused...

"I came up here once with John, and we had a little midnight picnic. It was just after I'd taken my last final for the spring semester," Janet commented sadly.

"They still haven't figured out what happened to him?" Bill asked, and Janet shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jan. I knew you really liked him. He was a cool guy. Didn't even think I was a weirdo or anything."

"What was the deal with you two, anyway?" Michele asked Jan. "Why didn't he ever ask you out? You guys spent enough time together."

"Oh, I don't know. He always said he didn't want to get really involved with anyone until he finished school. I mean, he was nice, but he was just so serious about his research. Way too serious if you ask me." Janet sighed again. "I just hope he's all right."

Murdock found himself hoping, for Janet's sake, that John was all right too.

* * *

BA shook his head and swore under his breath. _Another one of Hannibal's fool plans. Should be a law against that man layin' plans while on the jazz!_ BA had now spent over six hours walking around campus in the middle of the night, checking out the basements and storage rooms, and he hadn't seen a single thing suspicious going down the whole night. Not even a trace. Meanwhile, as part of his cover as a Physical Plant worker, he'd gotten stuck waxing a huge track of corridor and scrubbing down several bathrooms. And what was Hannibal doin' right now, he wondered? _Probably sittin' on his ass in some patrol car chewin' on a stale donut and drinkin' coffe_ e. _He always does give himself the cushy assignments._ BA decided he would have to have a serious talk with the colonel about division of labor after this job was finished.

BA navigated his motorized cleaning cart down the empty corridor, musing angrily about what exactly he was supposed to be looking for in the first place. Hannibal had said to watch for anything suspicious going down, but not being familiar with this thoroughly bizarre school in the first place, just about everything looked suspicious to him on this first night on the job. There were kids roaming around at all hours of the night, sitting in classrooms by themselves or staring bug-eyed at computer screens in the glass-encased terminal rooms... it didn't seem like anyone ever slept around here at all. And what was that guy doing playing classical guitar for no one in particular in that big domed lobby at this time of the night? Absolutely _none_ of it made any sense!

BA stopped his cart in front of the bathroom that was next on his assigned list of cleaning jobs, and wondered how in hell scrubbing toilets was supposed to help find the missing students. _Ain't like they could have fallen down the damn drain. I'm gonna get Hannibal for this one, that's for sure._ He took out his mop and bucket and started to open the door when he heard a loud shriek coming from around the corner, echoing eerily down the vast interconnected hallways of the Institute. He put down the cleaning supplies and hurried quietly towards the sound - at least, as quietly as he could with all of his gold chains bouncing against his chest. He heard several male voices laughing, and caught a glimpse of a couple darkly-clothed figures furtively heading up a staircase and debated what he should do next. If something serious was happening, there probably wasn't enough time to get Hannibal or the other guys here. He was going to have to handle it on his own.

He turned and headed for another nearby staircase, hoping to head off the strange group if they were on their way towards the central corridor. Lone kids wandering around in the dead of night was one thing, but screams and men in dark capes were something entirely different.

He went up to the third floor, hanging close to the wall for cover, until he heard the voices growing louder and more distinct, the footsteps coming closer. BA gauged there were three, maybe four of them in the group. Their conversation seemed to confirm his worst suspicions - _he'd found the group responsible for the missing students, and they'd just claimed their next victim!_

"...that's another one out of the picture. Nice move Mark, a knife is so much quieter than a gunshot in the middle of the night. When they all find out we killed her tomorrow, they should be ready to surrender and grant us our every wish!"

"Victory is ours! No one can stop us now!" cried a second voice, triumphantly.

"Don't be so sure of that, sucka!" BA bellowed, startling the four cloaked figures who practically jumped out of their skins when he appeared. BA pulled out the small handgun he kept concealed inside his jacket and the four grew ghostly pale.

"P-please, mister, don't kill us!" the one female in the group cried in a high pitched squeak, quickly reaching into her small purse. "Here, I have some money. Take it, it's yours, just don't hurt us!"

BA realized, now completely confused, that the group of "criminals" before him was just a bunch of young students, and in fact some of the nerdiest looking ones he had seen on campus so far. It didn't seem possible any of them could be capable of murder, but BA didn't want to take any chances.

"I heard someone scream. I wanna know who it was and where she is, and if anybody's been hurt then whoever's responsible is gonna pay!" he growled.

The girl had started crying, and the shortest member of the group stepped forward hesitantly. "We didn't hurt anyone, really! We were just playing a game," he pleaded in a nasal voice. "We're Assassin's Guild members, you've got to believe us!"

"Look, look here, see our badges?" The oldest-looking fellow in the group said nervously.

"Assassin's Guild?!" BA said. "What sort of crazy group is that? No, never mind - just tell me where the girl is that I heard scream."

"That was me," the girl said, sniffling. "I'm supposed to be a spy from the KGB, see, and they killed me. Well, I mean, they killed my character."

"Right," the nasal kid agreed. "Me and Mark and Tom are a special commando unit and we've now taken out all of the Soviet group's secret agents in this country, so -"

"Never mind. Just never mind," BA interrupted, not in any mood to listen to a bunch of kids playing crazy like Murdock. "Just get out of here and go play your fool spy games somewhere else. Or go get some sleep. Ain't tomorrow a school day?"

"Uh, yeah sure," the tall one said, edging towards the stairs, the others following quickly behind him. "We're real sorry about the misunderstanding."

"Yeah, right." BA shook his head and watched as the kids scurried down the stairs. More annoyed than ever, he headed back towards his cleaning cart and decided to call it a night.

* * *

The short, pudgy teen stood at the corner of Ames Street, near the main entrance to Senior House. As Hannibal and Lou pulled closer they could see the look of impatience in his expression as he made a show of checking his watch and glaring at the patrol car. "I knew it..." Lou said, pulling the car to the side of the street and rolling down the window. "William Merke?"

"Yeah," the kid responded, jumping in the back seat and tossing his bulging book bag down next to him. "It's about time," he grumbled.

"Where are you going? New House?"

"That's what I said when I called," he responded irritably. Hannibal saw Lou grit her teeth but she didn't say anything.

The car turned onto Memorial Drive and started heading down towards the west side of campus when another call came over the radio.

"Shit," Lou swore softly, listening to the report. "We got a kid just got mugged, right near the bus stop at 77 Mass. Ave. Two punks, and they both fled towards the Mass. Ave. bridge into Boston.

"Well, we're almost there now, let's go catch them," Hannibal said.

"We _can't_ \- that's not our jurisdiction anymore! We have to wait for the Boston Police to go after them now, and by the time they send someone out this way, you can bet those scumbags will be long gone."

"We can't let them get away like that, Lou. They get away with it this time, they'll come back and do it again. Maybe hurt someone bad."

Lou didn't say anything, but Hannibal could see the indecision tearing at her as they drew near the turn off onto Mass. Ave. that divided campus. Suddenly there was a screeching of tires as Lou made a hard turn to the left and they jumped over the divider to head into Boston. Hannibal decided he _really_ liked this lady a lot.

"Hey, where are you going?" William whined. "You're supposed to be taking me home now!"

William's complaining only seemed to increase Lou's determination to catch the muggers as she turned on the police siren and floored the gas pedal. Hannibal fished a cigar out of his pocket, starting to enjoy the evening patrol more and more. "What's the description?"

"Asian, both in their early teens. One's wearing a red windbreaker, the other's got a Red Soxx baseball cap and a white jacket. Probably from Chinatown, a lot of kids come to use the video-game arcade here - the one in the Student Center," Lou reported as the Charles River speeded past under them. Fortunately there was little very traffic on the bridge at this time of night.

"You guys could have let me out before going off on this crazy chase!" William screeched from the back, holding on for dear life.

"Just shut up, kid, or I'll let ya out right here and now," responded Lou.

"I'm gonna report you two," he whimpered.

"Don't worry, we're gonna be on report already, at least I know I will be," Lou replied as they finished crossing the bridge and turned right on Commonwealth Avenue.

Hannibal asked, "Where are we going now?"

"Towards Kenmore. They'll want to get off Mass. Ave. but they may want to hit some more students tonight, and Boston U. is down this way."

Hannibal kept an eye out for the possible muggers. They only had gone a few blocks when Hannibal saw something bright. "There - red jacket!"

The suspects caught sight of the campus police car at just about the same moment and immediately picked up speed and ran off of Comm. Ave. in an attempt to get away. The patrol car went swerving around a corner onto a side street after them, just avoiding careening into a large delivery truck coming in the opposite direction.

As fast the two kids were going, they couldn't outrun the speeding car on the empty side street. Especially when it turned out the street was in fact a dead end. Realizing this, the one in the red jacket pulled out a small hand gun and started firing wildly at the car. Lou came to a quick halt and William hid down on the floor in the back of the car, crying softly.

The gunfire was more of a show than anything else. The kids were in a panic and knew they couldn't get away. Hannibal saw the punk knew nothing at all about how to properly use a gun, and he didn't even come close to hitting the car once. Hannibal waited until he heard the sixth - or was it only the fifth? - bullet fired, then he leaned out the car window, his own gun in hand. He fired several shots rapidly right at the feet of the one with the gun, shocking them with his precision. "Drop it and freeze, dirtballs!" he hollered, and the two did just what he asked. "Now down on the ground before I put you there myself."

"Nice shootin' Smith," Lou observed, getting out of the car to arrest the two thieves.

"Of course." Hannibal grinned. "I love it when a plan comes together!"

* * *

"Thanks for having me along tonight, Jan. That was the most fun I've had climbin' around and pickin' locks and avoidin' the police since... well, never mind."

"No prob, Murdock. If you want, Chuck and I usually go hacking Friday or Saturday nights with this one group on campus that meets in the Coffeehouse. Why don't you come along this weekend?"

"Sure! I'd love it." Murdock paused outside the door to his room and turned back to the girl. "Jan, I think John is going to be okay. Don't worry about him so much."

Janet raised her eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"

Murdock shrugged. "Just one of those things. Call it ESP."

"I'd call it wishful thinking, Murdock." With that she turned away and headed down the corridor to her room.

#  chapter four

Two days into the job, and the Team members were meeting together in Larry's Chinese Restaurant for dinner to go over what information they'd been able to come up with so far. It was a Thursday night, and the small dining room was quiet except for some students, mainly residents of Random Hall, the dormitory building which was just down the block.

The Team took a booth towards the back of the room, and Face looked around at their surroundings with obvious distaste. "'Shun Lee West' this isn't, that's for sure. Who would name a Chinese restaurant 'Larry's' anyway?"

"I don't know, Face. Maybe a guy named Larry?" Hannibal quipped while opening his menu.

"Nah, probably someone named Eugene, or maybe Igor," Murdock suggested.

Face rolled his eyes and debated asking Murdock to elaborate. Against his better judgment he decided to, knowing full well he'd probably regret it. "Okay, Murdock, tell me, why would someone named Eugene call a restaurant 'Larry's'?"

Murdock stared at Face, amazed that the lieutenant didn't understand. "Well, doesn't 'Larry's' sound a lot better than 'Eugene's?'"

"Sure does to me," agreed Hannibal.

"There! You see?" Murdock said triumphantly.

"Quit encouraging him, would you, Hannibal?" Face said to the colonel. "And next time we meet _I'm_ going to pick the location, all right?"

Hannibal shrugged and continued to look through the menu. "Well, the guys on the beat all swear by this place. My partner Lou says Larry makes the best General Gau's Chicken in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, just stay away from the Sweet and Sour Pork, that's what I hear," Murdock added, while he studied the Chinese horoscopes on the paper placemat in front of him. "Hey BA, what year were you born in again? I bet you're an ox."

"Who are you callin' an ox, fool!" BA demanded.

"Well, while you two are learning _so_ much about the gourmet delights available in this fine city, have you managed to learn anything useful about the missing students?" Face asked Hannibal and Murdock, neither of whom seemed to be paying him much attention.

"Anyone else up for Beef and Broccoli?" Hannibal asked.

"I want Chicken Chow Mein," decided Murdock.

"I _hate_ chow mein!" BA complained.

"Well who said I was gonna give you any of my order anyway?"

"Fine. Then you keep your grubby hands out of my food."

"BA, I would _never_ be so uncivilized as to stick my 'grubby hands' in your food. I'd use my chopsticks!" Murdock stuck his chopsticks right in BA's face, laughing, until the sergeant snatched them away.

"Hannibal, tell BA to give me back my chopsticks!" Murdock whined.

"Will you two just _try_ to behave and act like a pair of adults for once?" Face interrupted, his patience at an end. "I swear, sometimes I feel like we're running around with a pair of five-year olds the way you two argue."

Murdock pointed accusingly at BA. "He started it!"

"Did not!"

Face turned to Hannibal. "What did I just say?"

"Knock it off, guys, all of you!" the colonel finally ordered. Some of the other restaurant patrons were beginning to take an interest in their arguing. "BA, give Murdock back his chopsticks. Murdock, leave BA alone. Face, just relax. We're supposed to be remaining inconspicuous here, remember?"

BA grudgingly gave Murdock back his chopsticks, but not without a very menacing scowl that was enough to keep Murdock quiet and sulking for a while. Once they had all settled down for a few minutes, the young waitress nervously came over to take their order.

"All right, can we discuss business now?" Face asked anxiously after she had gone back into the kitchen. "Because frankly I'm getting nowhere and I think this whole job is a lost cause. I mean, no one knows anything, no one saw anything. I've sweet-talked dozens of secretaries and office-assistants all around this place the past few days and there aren't any leads, not even any consistent rumors floating around. All I've gotten out of some students is to find some guy named Florey... James Florey, I think, but I get the feeling they're just pulling my leg."

"It's Jack Florey, Face, to be precise," Murdock corrected him.

"You've heard of him too?" asked the surprised Faceman.

"Of course. _Everyone_ at MIT knows about Jack. Jack is the very _essence_ of what this place is about. He knows everything and sees everything that happens here. I've been lookin' for him, too, and I think I've found the trail..."

"Well, fine, you keep looking, Murdock. But if you ask me, I bet these missing kids just got fed up with this crazy place and split. Maybe killed themselves. It's happened here before."

"But four in less than two months?" Hannibal objected.

Face shrugged. "Why not? Sure, the odds are high, but you know how these things can be. One person does it, suddenly other people start getting ideas. You gotta admit, this is not exactly the happiest bunch of kids. Most of them are stressed out, sleep deprived, and frankly a little off-balance to begin with."

"If it was suicide, there would have been bodies," Hannibal reasoned. "I doubt they would have fled the state just to go jump off a building."

The waitress brought over won ton soups for everyone. Face sniffed his hesitantly and poked at the large floating noodles a bit before figuring it was safe to take a taste.

"I think they've all been abducted to work on a secret plot by a mad scientist to take over the world," Murdock put in confidently before slurping down some of the hot soup. "Or at the very least Wyoming."

"Hannibal, do we gotta listen to this fool?" BA complained, putting down his spoon and making a face. "I can't even eat a meal in peace 'round here."

"I thought it was space aliens that abducted them, right, Murdock?" Face asked.

"No, no, that was just an early theory I had," Murdock said. "Remember when we were down in San Marcos a while back and all those oil company workers were missing and it turned out they were being forced to work on that missile, to take out the Republic's president?"

"I remember that one," Peck replied, then smiling and getting a dreamy look on his face. "I remember Nikki especially..."

"You should, you punched her out," BA added.

"That was an accident!" Face insisted. "If I had known it was her hiding in that closet -"

" _Anyway_ ," Murdock interrupted, "I think the same sort of thing is happenin' here. Listen, that grad student, John Walker? The one who I'm replacing as floor tutor? Well, he was supposed to be one of the best genetic engineering students this place has ever seen. He was gonna graduate in another six months, and this one professor in the bioengineering department, named Maxwell, was really pressurin' him to stay on and do post-doc work in his lab. Offered him a huge stipend. But John didn't want anything to do with him or his lab."

"Why not?" Face asked.

"Because he suspected the man was workin' on stuff that even the Institute didn't want to fund - genetically engineered biological weapons."

Hannibal looked up from his bowl, suddenly growing very interested in the conversation. "If the Institute didn't fund him, who did?"

"I don't know," Murdock answered, continuing with the information he had gleamed from his conversation with Janet the other night. "Apparently John did some poking around on his own, just before he disappeared, and came up with the names of some weird technology groups. Nothing he had ever heard of before. Janet hinted to me that he thought they might be connected with certain less-than-scrupulous foreign governments."

"Yeah, there are plenty of dictators that I'm sure would love to get their hands on a weapon like that," Hannibal said thoughtfully.

"But if MIT didn't support this guy Maxwell's research work, why did they keep him on?" Face asked. "Doesn't make sense."

"Actually, it does," Hannibal said. "Maybe these groups were paying off the Institute's officials quite nicely to keep their mouths shut about what was going on. They keep their hands clean and come out of it with some extra pocket change."

"This guy had some other really innocuous projects going on too, some sort of virus DNA mapping studies he had some undergraduates working on. Makes great press, and also a nice cover," Murdock finished.

"Yeah, sure does," Hannibal agreed. "The Institute likely didn't even know the full extent of what was going on. Guys, I'd say that's a definite lead. Now we've got to figure out what to do with it."

BA asked, "I'm sure you're already working on a plan, right, Hannibal?"

"Of course," the colonel replied with a smile. The rest of their meal arrived. "...And I'll tell you all about it, once I'm done eating."

* * *

"Hello... Hello...? Anybody home?"

Face pounded loudly for several minutes on the access door to Fifth East, trying to get someone to come open it for him, but it seemed like the place was completely deserted. Finally, when he was ready to give up and leave, a door right across the hallway cracked open and a cadaverous blonde stuck her head out. She stared blankly at him while he waved and tried to give her a cheerful smile through the glass window, pointing to the lock to show his predicament. With a grimace that showed just what a monumental effort it was for her to respond, she skulked over to the door and opened it for him. She was wearing a worn-out blue bathrobe and large pink bunny slippers.

"Ah, gee, thanks. I'm really sorry to bother you like that, I'm just here to see -" without a word or acknowledgment of any type she had turned around and went back to her room, slamming the door shut behind her before he had the chance to finish.

"A friendly bunch, that's for sure," Face said to himself. He looked around the empty, silent corridor and took in the rather disturbing murals painted on the dark walls around him, and decided to find Murdock as fast as possible.

It didn't take him long, once he began to pick up the sounds of a heated video game battle going on further down the hall. He peered into a room littered with empty pizza boxes and dirty laundry to find Murdock and an equally demented-looking figure squatted on the floor, both sitting transfixed in front of a TV display.

"Now hit one more of those bunkers and you'll get the password, then you can disarm the nuclear warhead," the kid was explaining to Murdock.

"Saving the universe again, are we?" Face asked.

"Oh hey, Faceguy," Murdock said, momentarily looking up and then turning quickly back to the game. "Well that's what I'm doing, I don't know about you."

Face carefully stepped through the refuse, trying to avoid landing in anything organic, and came up to Murdock and snatched the game controller away from him.

"Sorry, Murdock, the universe will have to wait until later, we have more important work to attend to."

"More important than saving the entire free world from nuclear devastation?"

Face just glared impatiently at Murdock, then turned around to navigate through the debris and leave. "Shoot, all right." Murdock got up grudgingly to follow Face out. "Sorry, Chuck, my thesis advisor beckons. It's back to the lab for me."

"Bummer," Charles said, turning off the game. "Well, we'll hit the fortress when you get back."

"Quite a bunch of characters here. I see you're fitting in just fine," Face remarked as they headed down the stairs.

"Yeah, this place is really neat. Would you believe they have Elvis in a broom closet over here? Do ya wanna see?"

"Maybe later, okay? It's time to do a little investigating."

"You mean scamming."

"Same difference! And Murdock, _why_ is part of this hallway painted completely black?"

"Apparently this floor used to be nudist colony."

"Oh. Sorry I asked."

* * *

Ellen Maguire, receptionist for the Financial Records office and life-long resident of Revere, Massachusetts, looked up from her computer screen to see the two men in dark gray suits enter the room and approach the counter in front of her. Reflexively she ran a hand through her permed, color-treated red hair when she got a good look at the first one. "May I help you?" she asked with a smile and with a thick accent, hoping her lipstick wasn't too smeared after the chocolate-glazed donut she had just finished.

The man held out an important looking badge to show her, then quickly put it back in his pocket. In a very formal voice he announced, "FBI. Special research investigation unit. This is Agent Ross -" he nodded to the other man, who was wearing dark glasses and leaning against the counter. "I'm Agent Donovan. We're here on an assignment. Very important and very... hush-hush, you understand?" He leaned forward and focused his sparkling blue eyes on the secretary as he finished speaking.

She nodded. "I see. Perhaps you should talk to the office supervisor, he's in a meeting right now but should be back in an hour. I could make an appointment for you..."

"No, no, that won't be necessary. We must keep our operations as quiet as possible, and the less people that know that we're here, the better... _especially_ anyone high up in the system."

"You mean, someone in the administration is in trouble?" Ellen whispered conspiratorially. This was certainly turning into the most interesting morning she'd had in a while.

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that type of information," Donovan told her.

"You see, Miss, if we told you any more of the details we'd have to kill you afterwards," the other agent put in. Donovan shot a look at Ross then turned his attention back to Ellen.

"This could be a matter of national security, you see? Now, we'd like to check into the financial records of several individuals employed here at the Institute who might be involved in this... situation. Who provided their research funding, that sort of information. If you could show us where those records are kept, we should be out of here in five minutes."

"Uh... of course, right this way." She led them towards a wall of cabinets in the back of the office. "The records are all alphabetized by department. They only go back for the last ten years, though, the rest of the records are kept in a storage room now. We're trying to put them all on computer eventually."

"That's fine. We should find all we need right here. Thank you, Miss Maguire." Donovan smiled warmly, put an arm around the secretary's trim waist and lead her towards the door. "Now, if it's all right, do you mind stepping out for a few minutes? For security reasons, you understand."

"But I really shouldn't leave the office unattended..."

"Just five minutes, don't worry."

He smiled convincingly at her, and with a slight blush in her cheeks she smiled back and replied, "All right. Good luck with... whatever it is you're looking for."

"Thank you again, Miss Maguire. Your help is _truly_ appreciated." The man closed the door gently behind her, waited a few seconds, and then spun around to his companion. "C'mon, let's get busy."

The two of them picked rapidly through the file cabinets, looking for the documents they needed.

"All right, let's see here... Mandel, Manning, Marks... A-ha! Maxwell. Er, is it Stephen or Thomas?"

"What?"

"Maxwell's first name."

"I don't know. Just check the department listing."

Face skimmed the information at the top of the documents. "Here we go - Stephen Maxwell, bioengineering department." He shoved the other file back into the cabinet and went to the Xerox machine to begin copying the right one.

"I hope this lead pans out, 'cause I'm getting sick of this case. Sick of this whole place, actually," Face complained as he went through the documents.

"You're just getting into the spirit of things here, Faceman. Like they all say, IHTFP."

"What?"

"IHTFP, the unofficial student's motto. Stands for a lot of different things: 'I Hack To Find Places,' 'I Have Taken Freshman Physics,' 'Incredibly Hard ToFu Patties'... but most commonly just for 'I Hate This Frakking Place.'"

Face had to laugh at that one. "IHTFP, huh? I'll remember that." He collected the copied pages, folded them up into his pocket and returned the originals to the file cabinet. "And why do you always have to ad-lib during these scams, Murdock, would you tell me that? 'We'll have to kill you afterwards?!'"

"Because you never give me anything interesting to say, Faceman! I need to stretch my acting abilities every now and them. Besides, it keeps you on your toes, doesn't it?" Murdock grinned mischievously.

"Yeah, well, let's get out of here before our big-haired friend returns."

* * *

Murdock and Face met with Hannibal and BA later that day at the hotel, just before the colonel was heading back to duty with the CP's and BA was to report in with Physical Plant.

"This is pretty interesting, guys," Hannibal commented. "Says Maxwell here was getting funding from Andes Bio-research Cooperative, International Defense Industries, and some company named Viron. I've never heard of any of them."

"Neither had I, so I did a little poking around this afternoon," Face said. "Viron checks out fine. They were probably supporting his work on DNA mapping. ABC is based in South America. I couldn't find much more on them besides that, and the fact that they run several labs in Brazil, supposedly for studying the rain forests. IDI, however, is where things get real interesting. First I was lead to some defense technology corporation with its headquarters in France. But it turns out the 'headquarters' is really just a mail drop. With a little help from a 'contact,' shall we say, in Europe I was able to trace them back to their real base of operations - Baraq."

"Baraq!" Murdock exclaimed. "Oh no. Not them again! That's where those bozos took me to steal that Russian helicopter after I was on 'Wheel of Fortune.'"

"Murdock, you didn't really go to Baraq," Face corrected him. "They only wanted you to think you were in Baraq, remember?"

"Eh! Details, details..."

Hannibal tried to get the conversation back on track again. "Okay, so we know that this guy Maxwell has connections in South America and the Middle East. I think we're definitely on the right track."

"I don't know, something still doesn't make sense to me, Hannibal," Face put in. "I can understand how this might be connected to John Walker's disappearance, and the other kid who was in bioengineering. But what about the other two students? Why a mechanical and an electrical engineer?"

"Think about it, Face," Murdock replied. "If you were working on a weapon of some kind, wouldn't you need someone with some mechanical expertise - like the mudsucker here - to actually put it together for you?"

BA growled. Hannibal said, "You're right, Captain. I think we'd better go into double-time, team, before this thing - whatever it is - goes too far. If Maxwell is working on a weapon for Baraq, that could spell big trouble in the Middle East and everywhere else. BA, think you can get a bug in Maxwell's office tonight?"

"No problem, man," the sergeant replied.

"Good. See if you can get a tap on his phone too. Face -"

"Ah, I've already got a plan of my own, Hannibal," the lieutenant interrupted. "I'm going on a date tonight."

"A _date?_ " the others all complained.

"That's right, a date - with Maxwell's secretary." Face smiled.

"Okay, Lieutenant. I'm sure you will quite thoroughly investigate every aspect of that lead," the colonel chided him. "Murdock, sounds like you've worked yourself in pretty well with the students. See if you can get any more information out of them about the missing students, or Maxwell, or just this place in general. Like where he might be able to set up a secret lab and keep these kids hidden."

"Sure thing, Colonel. You think they're still all here on campus?" Murdock asked.

"I know it, Captain. We've found the mouse, now we've just got to find where he hides, and where he keeps his cheese stashed."

"What about you, Hannibal?" Face asked.

Hannibal stood up and straightened out his uniform. "I'll be around, enforcing law and order as always. Contact me if you run into any trouble."

#  chapter five

BA walked along the quiet, deserted path from the end of the Infinite Corridor towards Ames Street. He had gotten into Maxwell's office without any problems and set up the bug and the phone tap, and now he had to get back to his cleaning route. As he drew near the Great Sail he noticed something suspicious. Someone dressed all in black was sitting right under the Sail, and while from a distance BA could not be sure, the man sounded like he was talking to himself... or perhaps speaking into a hidden microphone or walkie-talkie. BA wondered if the man might be working for Maxwell, on the lookout for another student to kidnap. BA approached the figure quietly, creeping along the side of the path near Building Eighteen, until he could begin to pick up more clearly what the person under the Sail was saying, start to see him more clearly... and then he swore loudly and rather rudely and stormed towards the Sail.

"...Oh mighty spirit, Guardian of the Great Dome, patron saint to engineers near and far, speak to me and share the secrets of the universe to a troubled traveler..."

"Fool! What're you doin' under there!" BA bellowed, causing Murdock to jump to his feet too quickly, stumble back, and bang his head on the huge black structure.

"Ow!" Murdock rubbed the back of his head and glared at BA. "BA, never never _never_ interrupt someone in the middle of a spiritual channeling like that! It puts a _terrible_ strain on the psyche! I almost had contact with the mighty Jack E. Florey himself when you came along, and now I'll have to start all over again."

"Don't you start in with that Jack Florey stuff again or I'm gonna toss you and your fool psyche up on top of that thing!"

Murdock stuck his tongue out at BA. "Spoil-sport. Non-believer! Just you wait, good ol' Jack has _all_ the answers. He knows everything about what goes on at this place, and he's gonna help me locate those missing students, and then you're gonna be _real_ sorry you didn't put your faith behind him! You'll see."

"All I see is a crazy fool talkin' to an ugly piece of metal." BA looked over Murdock's attire again. "What're you dressed like that for anyway? I thought you were one of the kidnappers. You look like you're gonna run off and rob a bank or somethin'."

"I'm going _hacking_ , BA, that's what the kids around here do for fun on the weekends."

"Hacking? You gotta get dressed all in black to go sit in front of a computer?"

"No BA, not computer hacking, _building_ hacking! You know - picking locks, climbing on roof tops, sneaking around through closed-off corridors and rooms. The kind of stuff we do all the time, 'cept these guys just do it for fun, and it sure is!" Murdock grinned, warming up to his topic. "The other night I went with some of the gang from EC to the 'Room that Blows and Sucks' and 'The Snake Pit.' I'll have to show it to ya, BA, before we leave, it's really neat!"

BA gave up trying to make sense out of what Murdock was talking about or anything that was going on at this campus. Seemed to him that the whole school was filled with people as insane as Murdock.

"Just keep your mind on the job, crazy man. I gotta get movin'."

"Minds are for people who _think_ , BA," Murdock replied in an authoritarian tone, quoting one of his favorite t-shirts. "And I'll leave _that_ pedestrian task to less creative souls than I. Catch you later, big guy!" With that remark Murdock turned and jogged off towards the Infinite Corridor.

BA decided that he would have to have a serious talk with the colonel about leaving Murdock back at the VA on their next mission.

* * *

It was near midnight and the Friday night crew had begun to assemble in the small coffeehouse on the third floor of the Student Center. Open twenty four hours a day and offering up many varieties of breakfast and junk food, it was an always-busy establishment, especially in early morning hours.

New wave music was blaring over the speakers while the assembled students were consuming their half-price, day-old muffins and donuts and large mugs of coffee. Janet and Charles were already there when Murdock came in, and they introduced him to the rest of the group. There were about ten people in total gathered that evening, one or two other "newbies," pre-frosh who had heard of the adventurous hobbies of the upper classmen, but the rest were all long-time hackers. Janet's friend from Random House, Michele, was there as well.

After about fifteen minutes of eating and catching up on the latest 'Tute gossip, they began plotting the evening's missions. "Anyone have anything interesting to report?" asked Richie, one of the most experienced hackers around and an unofficial leader of the coffeehouse group. He had been at MIT almost nine years now, first as a grad student, now as a post-doc. Chances were good for him that he might land a job as an associate professor sometime soon. Of course, based on appearances only, most people would have figured him more likely to be a Deadhead or over-the-hill beach bum, with his long blonde hair pulled back in a braid and his scraggly beard. He was soft-spoken and a very congenial person.

"I think someone's moving out of a lab in the chemical engineering building, there's a whole mess of equipment and old office furniture sitting around in the hallway in the subbasement. Saw it last night," Michele reported.

"Any of it tagged?" Richie asked.

"One or two things, but the rest looks like it's up for grabs. I think there were even a few circuit boards and old computer monitors lying around." She shrugged. "Just thought some of you might want to give it a look over. I found some really useful stuff for myself."

"Sounds cool," someone said. "Might find some stuff for decorating the house lounge."

Another girl named Suzanna spoke up. "You know Evan? He comes here some Saturdays but usually does most of his hacking on his own." A few people nodded. "Well, I was talking to him earlier this week, and he said he thought something weird might be going on in the Building Eighteen sub-basement."

"Weird in what way?" Janet asked.

"He said he was down there, just poking around, and it was like one in the morning. Anyway, he was going to head over by the Ladder Room when he heard some voices, and it didn't sound like Phys. Plant people to him, or some other hackers. Some weird machine noises too, and even a few empty pizza boxes lying around. He got spooked and left without checking it out any further."

"Hmm. Maybe we should send some people to check it out tonight. Any volunteers?" Richie asked.

"I don't know, if something's going on down there, I'd say we should steer clear of there for now," Charles put in, and several of the others muttered their agreement.

"Actually, I think it might be interesting to find out what's going on," Murdock said.

"Yeah, me too," Janet agreed. "If something's going on that shouldn't be, no one else but _us_ might be able to investigate."

"Okay," said Richie. "I want to go too. Three of us should be enough." The group split up then, three people going with Michele to check out the chemical engineering "yard sale," and Charles taking the two newbies on a tour of some of the standard hacking hot spots. That left Richie, Janet and Murdock.

"You have much experience doing this type of stuff before?" Richie asked Murdock. "It can get a little tricky, and if we're going into a kind of risky situation I want to make sure you can take care of yourself."

"Don't worry, I think I can handle it," Murdock replied. "As a friend of mine likes to say, it ought to be a piece of cake..."

* * *

The sub-basement of Building Eighteen was the home of two things: a huge chemical stockroom that was like a supermarket for the Institute's scientists, and lots of interesting places to go hacking. The corridors appeared quiet enough, with big windowless black doors, very few of which were marked in any manner except perhaps with faded, stenciled-in numbers. But if one knew the right door to open and the correct locks to pick, the studious hacker could find himself in some very interesting surroundings indeed.

"The thing about these buildings is that a lot of them are really, really old," Richie was explaining to Murdock as they strolled down the Infinite Corridor to their final destination. "This school just keeps expanding, though, so they keep sticking additions onto the old buildings, connections from one to the next, or new labs and offices. That's what makes this campus really unique - with all the corridors and tunnels, you can go around to your classes all day and never have to step outside once."

"It's real handy in the winter around here," Janet added.

Richie continued, "But as a result of all this construction and renovating, there's tons of old rooms and passageways that have been forgotten about with time. They didn't fit in anymore with the overall design of the building, so they just closed them off. Hell, there's even an elevator shaft or two that are just sitting around, empty, completely forgotten about. Some of them never completed and used in the first place. It's incredible, and as much exploring as us hackers have done over the years, I'm sure there are still plenty places we haven't found yet."

They turned off at the end of the corridor to the right and headed towards the Humanities Building. "Isn't Building Eighteen over there?" Murdock asked, pointing in the opposite direction they were walking now.

"Yeah, but it's locked after dark. The only way to get in is through the basement, which we can reach through the tunnel over here."

Sure enough, they went down the stairs to the basement and turned to the left, entering the long, deserted tunnel that cut across the length of the large courtyard above them.

"We could sure use one of these tunnels at the VA," Murdock said, mostly to himself, already getting an idea for his next escape from the hospital...

"What?" Janet asked.

"Oh, nothing..."

They passed through a few swinging doors and were then in the basement of Building Eighteen. There were chemistry labs on both sides of the hallway, all locked-up for the weekend. "We still need to go down a floor," Richie said, indicating a nearby staircase. Janet and Murdock followed him.

The sub-basement was completely quiet, as should be expected, except for the loud humming coming from a few of the rooms. "What's in there?" Murdock asked as they passed one particularly noisy room.

Richie answered, "Power generating and other mechanical and electrical equipment for the whole campus. Kind of neat to look at, but not why we're really here. I don't notice anything out of the ordinary so far..."

"I don't know, do the power generators usually need to get take-out from Larry's?" Richie and Murdock turned around to see Janet holding up a big plastic bag filled with small Chinese food cartons. "Found it right around the corner back there, by the elevators."

They made a complete circuit of the sub-basement corridors, even down the east-side tunnel that lead over to the Earth Sciences' Building. They found a small stack of pizza boxes as well, right at the near end of the tunnel.

"These can't be too old," Richie said. "Physical Plant does clean up around here every few days. But who would be coming down here to eat? If it's hackers, there are plenty better places to go have a party."

Murdock had another idea about who it might be. "You were talkin' about abandoned rooms earlier - are there any down here?"

"Yeah, sure. Plenty of them. You think somebody's started using them... maybe even taking up residence down here?"

Janet giggled. "Talk about cheap on-campus housing..."

"Something like that, maybe. Can we go check it out?" Murdock asked.

"That's what we came down here for, right?" Janet said. "I mean, it seems quiet. We haven't seen or heard anyone else around. Let's go to the Ladder Room, where Evan had been heading."

"Okay," Richie agreed. "But we're going to be careful. This way -"

He led them towards one door at the back corner of the sub-basement that didn't look any more suspicious than the others around them. Then he pulled out his lock-pick set and was ready to get to work when, as any good hacker knows to do, he first checked to make sure the door was locked to begin with. It wasn't.

"This is weird already," Richie whispered, cracking open the door. "This door is always locked."

"Maybe some other hackers were just careless," Janet suggested.

"Yeah, maybe. All right, follow me. This corridor is really narrow." Murdock followed Richie in and was surprised not to find a room but a passageway just barely wide enough for even his lean frame to fit through. Richie switched on his pen-sized flashlight as Janet closed the door behind them. The corridor was, Murdock guessed, about ten-feet long.

"This is a tight fit, but just squeeze through it."

"Squeeze through what?" Murdock asked, then saw the bend at the end of the corridor. He slipped around it and found he was now in a much more spacious room with a high ceiling above them. He scratched his head. "I feel like I'm trapped in an MC Escher drawing or something."

"It is pretty wild, isn't it?" Richie replied with a grin, just barely visible in the dim illumination. Richie's smile reminded Murdock of the smile a certain white-haired colonel he knew got when he was on the jazz. There were several doors in front of them on the wall they were facing. Richie considered for a minute before going for one at the far left end, testing it and finding it unlocked as well. He motioned at the others to stay back for a while as he stuck his head in to investigate. "Okay," he called finally. "We're cutting through one of the generator rooms now. There's another access path down at the opposite end that we want to use. Nothing really dangerous in here, so long as you don't touch anything or play with any of the switches."

"Gotcha," Murdock said. "I've had enough electric shocks in my time. Don't need anymore tonight."

They all entered the room, which was lit by the many bright panels of red, green, yellow and white lights that covered the large machines all around them. Thick cables and pipes were visible on the walls and the floor, and the humming and whirring sounds coming from the generators were incredibly loud. They worked their way carefully to the back of the room, where Richie was busy pulling at something on the wall. Murdock took a look and saw it was not a door, but just a small panel, perhaps three-by-three feet in dimension and about four feet off the ground. Richie popped it open and then squeezed his way through it. He then helped Janet through and Murdock took up the rear. They were in yet another narrow passageway now, a little longer than the first one.

"The Ladder room is just up ahead, around the corner -" Janet was explaining to Murdock when Richie suddenly motioned for her to be quiet. They stood frozen in place for several long moments, then they heard what had concerned Richie. There were sounds coming from not far ahead of them, muffled noises of machinery that were distinct from the constant hum of the generators in the background. They listened a while longer, finally hearing what was definitely some human voices above the rest of the noise, although the voices were still too far away to make out what they were saying.

Suddenly Janet wasn't sure this "mission" had been a good idea at all. She drew a little closer to Murdock. "I don't like this," she whispered. "Guys, maybe we should get the hell out of here. Report this to the CP's or something."

"Yeah, and explain what we were doing down here to begin with?" Richie hissed back between clenched teeth. "I think we should just get out. It sounds like there's more than a few of them down there, and that's a few too many for us to deal with."

"You guys head on back, I'm goin' to check it out," Murdock said.

"What?!" Janet and Richie both exclaimed at once.

Murdock ignored their concerns. "You said the Ladder Room is right around the corner here? Is there anything else after it?"

Janet couldn't believe Murdock was being serious. "Well, there are some more rooms, and a tunnel, up at the top of this huge ladder, and some air-conditioning shafts and stuff, but - Murdock, no, it's too dangerous! We don't know who that is up there!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm used to this kind of thing. Listen, I'm just goin' to take a peek. Wait for me out back in the sub-basement main corridor. If I'm not back in twenty minutes or so, just go. Find this guy with the CP's, his name is John Smith. Tell him everything that happened. He won't get you in trouble and he'll know what to do."

Janet shook her head. "This is insane, Murdock."

"Are you kidding? This isn't even slightly abnormal yet, believe me."

Janet and Richie looked at each other for a while, and then at Murdock. Richie finally sighed and said, "All right. But don't do anything stupid." He gave Murdock a quizzical stare. "You know, I get the feeling you aren't exactly who you claim to be."

Murdock grinned. "You're right, but then again I claim to be someone else every other day. Wish me luck!"

They watched as Murdock disappeared from sight into the darkened room. Then they did as he asked and left the winding passageways and generator rooms to wait in the main hallway.

"I don't like this, Richie. We should've stopped him."

"He wanted to go, Jan. If he gets in trouble, it's his own fault."

"How long has it been?"

Richie checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes."

They ended up waiting for over thirty, close to forty minutes, but there was still no sign of Murdock.

"We'd better go, find that CP guy like he said."

"Just five more minutes, maybe -"

"Jan, it's no good. Something must've happened to him down there. There's something weird is going on. The quicker we report it, the better chance they have of finding out what it is - maybe saving his life!"

Janet had to agree that Richie was right. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

Hannibal listened carefully while the two students explained exactly what had happened. They were talking outside, behind the student center just next to the campus police building. After and Janet and Richie finished telling their story, Hannibal light up a cigar and began to think. "Describe the route again you took through the sub-basement: how narrow the passageways were and how long. I need more details."

The two students strained to remember every detail Hannibal pressed them for. Janet was having a hard time concentrating on such seemingly trivial matters; she was too worried about Murdock's disappearance.

"You have to send some people down there, find out what's going on. Who knows what happened to our friend," Janet said.

"Murdock knows how to take care of himself. He shouldn't have gone in without back-up, but they're probably just holding him prisoner."

"But who _are_ they?" Richie insisted.

"I don't know for sure, but I have a pretty good idea." Hannibal replied. Then he sighed and said, mostly to himself, "Too tricky for a front-on assault, with just one way in and out like that. I think we'll have to draw _them_ out instead." He turned his attention back to the hackers and tried now to dismiss them. "Thanks for all your help. Don't worry, we'll take care of it from now on. You can both go, just please, try to keep quiet what's happened. We don't need to start up a panic on campus now, do we?"

"But -" Janet started.

"- No, no, really. Everything's under control. If we need your help anymore we'll be in touch."

Neither of them liked being dismissed like that, but they didn't see what else they could do at that point. Smith was already in his patrol car, talking on his radio to someone and rolling up the window so they could not overhear him.

"C'mon Jan, he's right. We can't do anything more right now. Let's go."

"We should at least tell the other -"

"- And do what? Go back there, like a nerd commando unit or something?"

"We have to do something. _I_ have to do something, I just can't go home and go to sleep like nothing's happened at all! First John and all those other people disappear, and now Murdock. I swear, it all _has_ to be related."

"You might be on to something there, Jan." Richie sighed and said, "All right, all right. Look, it's almost three and time to report back to everyone anyway. We'll tell them what happened, at the very least to keep anyone else from snooping around and getting in trouble. Maybe we can come up with a plan."

"We sure could use a _real_ commando unit around here," Janet added as they climbed the stairs into the student center to return to the coffeehouse.

* * *

Murdock had been doing great, sneaking along, hunched down through the long, low-ceilinged corridor that led towards the loud noises and voices. He had moved silently in the feint light of his pocket flashlight...until he had tripped over the just-about-invisible perimeter wire someone had set up, sending his flashlight flying out of his hand as he hit the floor with a much-too-loud _thud_. The batteries must have been thrown right out of the flashlight because he found himself then in complete darkness, and the sudden commotion no more than about ten feet away now told him that his presence was no longer a secret.

If it hadn't been for the darkness he would have made a run for it, but he had known better than to try it. He had seen the rather nasty holes and missing floorboards in the passageway that, if a hacker like himself was not careful, could cause him to take a nice long fall to the cement floor about twenty feet below. He hadn't been feeling lucky enough to take that risk at that moment.

A blinding light had been flashed in his face as the figures entered the end of the passage in front of him. "Move and you're dead!" one of them had yelled harshly. He could not see in the too-bright light but he had figured the man must have had a gun on him. He offered no resistance.

They had pushed him up through an entryway and, even with what he had suspected before, Murdock was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. A large, cavernous room filled with more humming, blinking, and beeping pieces of electrical equipment than even the power generator rooms had contained. And not just electrical equipment and computers, but also large, bubbling reactor tanks filled with murky, thick liquids. And several lab benches filled with test tubes, pumps, various types of analytical equipment...and busy at work around one of the benches, Murdock recognized three of the four missing students.

He saw spotted the fourth, none other than John Walker, sitting quietly against the wall. He was not restrained at all, but he did not need to be; the guards - there were four in total, Murdock noted - were all heavily armed. There was no way to get out of there without drawing their attention.

There was another man present that was not dressed as the guards were, but who looked like he was in charge of the whole operation. He was of medium height and build, dark-skinned, and looked like far too many other hot-shot third-world military types Murdock had had the pleasure of encountering before. "Who the hell is that?" he barked when he saw Murdock. The man spoke with a thick Mediterranean - Middle Eastern, perhaps - accent. _There's your Baraq connection, Faceman._

"Found him sneaking around the perimeter, General. Probably one of those damn hackers," one guard reported. He spoke with the same accent, then switched into his native dialect for a longer conversation with the group's leader.

"I was just lookin' for my dog Billy!" Murdock protested innocently. Then he asked, "You haven't seen him around here at all, have you?"

"Shut up," the general insisted, then jerked his head towards where John sat. "Just put him over there next to that one. We're almost finished here anyway. You try anything, mister, and you die. Right now. Understand?"

Murdock nodded, deciding he'd better play it cool for now. The guards pushed him along and forced him to sit down along the back wall of the makeshift laboratory. The other students watched with muted attention, but were obviously too terrified to do or say anything except quickly get back to their work.

John said nothing to Murdock, just looked up at him helplessly and then turned back to staring at the floor. He was a tall, slender young man who looked very much the academic type with his gold-rimmed, round glasses and his blond hair trimmed close to his head. Not even the dirt that covered him and his clothes and the thick beard he wore now as a result of his captivity could disguise his obvious intellect. Murdock waited a while, until the guards saw he was not going to cause any immediate trouble and they wandered away to keep an eye on the working students. Then Murdock whispered, "It's okay, John. I'm here with some friends - we're gonna get you guys out of this."

John just regarded Murdock with an amused expression and replied quietly, "It's too late for that. Tomorrow morning, we're all gonna die anyway. And not just us but everyone on this campus."

"What?! What's going on here?"

"Professor Maxwell's insane. He's behind this whole thing, along with Khalid here," John said softly, indicating the general. "They've had us working on a new biological weapon, and they plan on testing it out tomorrow at the Freshman picnic."

"Why, what's in it for them?"

John looked around to make sure they weren't being listened to. "Khalid and the government he works for, they've been financing Professor Maxwell's research into highly contagious, extremely deadly microorganisms." Murdock sniffed the air warily and took a second look at one of the large fermentation tanks. "Don't worry, the stuff in there isn't dangerous - yet," John continued. "You ever hear of the Redbark virus?"

Murdock thought for a moment. "Wasn't that the one that wiped out a couple hundred people in a village in South America, back about ten years ago?"

John nodded. "It's a real killer, produces a terrible neurotoxin when it infects a host. This exploration team in the rain forest was infected with it while studying the ecosystem in this one river basin. The virus is only found in the bark of a certain tree that grows there. The native Indians living in that area have developed an immunity to it, but the explorers were infected without realizing it and carried it back to their main camp. That's when the dying started. The only thing that kept the epidemic under control is that the virus multiplies so incredibly quickly, it kills off its host before it can ever be spread very far. Maxwell's research group, with _our_ help, managed to splice the virus's toxin-producing DNA into an _E. coli_ bacteria, then deactivated those genes until the bacteria had been exposed to a very specific nutrient it's otherwise missing. So they can grow up tanks of this stuff, and it's perfectly harmless. But add a little bit of this one specific sugar to the mix, and you're looking at some serious trouble."

"And that's what he's had you guys working on? That's why he had you all kidnapped?" It sounded like all of the Team's suspicions were correct, but Murdock wanted all the details clearly from John.

"Uh-huh. He wanted me to join his group, but as soon as I suspected the type of work he was really up to, I declined. But as you can see, he wouldn't take no for an answer." John nodded to the other students. "Some of these guys he needed for actually designing the device for distributing the bacteria, just like a bomb. One vessel containing an active culture, the other holding the initiator solution. Then devise a timer so they start to mix for a while before the explosion. Did you ever hear about the hack MIT pulled on the Harvard-Yale football game a few years back?"

Murdock shook his head. "No."

"Some hackers put together a small device, and buried it under the forty-six yard line before the game. Right in the middle of the match this huge MIT weather balloon emerged from out of the ground, inflated, then blew up in a cloud of talcum powder. He wanted us to put together a similar device, except this time instead of talcum powder -"

"Deadly bacteria. Oh boy..." Murdock muttered to himself. This situation was even more serious than any of them had imagined.

"Exactly. And everyone will think it's a prank, just like before... until people start dying just a few hours later. Putting the genes into the bacteria somehow increased it's toxicity nearly ten-fold. The only good thing about that is the virus has even less chance to spread. That makes it a perfect weapon for quickly taking out an institution like MIT, a small town..."

"...Or a place like Washington DC?" Murdock guessed. He checked his watch; it had been close to an hour since he had left Janet and Richie. He hoped those kids had done what he asked them to and talked to Hannibal. The colonel was sure gonna need one helluva plan this time.

* * *

"So what's the plan, Hannibal?"

The colonel, Face and BA had met up in the lobby of the Hyatt hotel. Face tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes; he seemed to be the only team member not on a nocturnal shift at the moment. His date with Maxwell's secretary had not been very productive as far as the case was concerned, but it had been entertaining. He looked expectantly at Hannibal, who chewed pensively on his cigar.

"That crazy fool better be all right," BA muttered to himself. When the other two turned to him with surprise at his concern, he quickly added, "So I can pound it through that thick head a'his how stupid it was t'go in there alone!"

Hannibal said, "At least we know now where the students most likely are. The machine noises and the voices the two kids heard, it all fits in with what we thought - they're being forced to work on some secret project. And the one place no one would look to find them would be a completely abandoned, forgotten about section of the Institute."

"Yeah, real clever. But how are we gonna get in there?" asked Face.

"We're not. Like I was thinking before, we're gong to have to draw this Professor Maxwell and his goons out of their little hole. Maxwell is the key to the whole thing, so if we go after him and show him the error of his ways, I'm sure he'll see fit to call off his special project and release the students."

"An' if he don't?" BA argued.

Hannibal replied coolly, "We won't give him any choice, Sergeant."

#  chapter six

When Professor Stephen Maxwell opened the door to his office on the third floor of Building Fifty-Six early that morning, he found a surprise waiting for him. Sitting, in fact, in his reclining leather chair and filling the air with pungent cigar smoke.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my office?" he asked angrily, then quickly he grew apprehensive. Perhaps he had stumbled on a burglar and was about to get himself killed. He took a step backwards, and stumbled right into one very large black man who was standing behind him. The man at his desk now had a gun pointed at him.

"Close the door so we can get nice and comfy in here, BA," the man called, waving absently with the gun.

"Look, please..." Maxwell began pleadingly. He was a short, overweight man not used to such confrontations, and heroism was not one of his better traits. "Take whatever you want, it's yours! Just don't hurt me! Here, I have some money in my wallet..."

"We ain't here for yo' money, sucker!" BA growled, pushing the professor forward and propelling him down into a chair facing Hannibal.

"That's right, Professor. What we're here for are some answers," Hannibal explained.

"Answers? Answers to what?!"

"Answers to what happened to John Walker. Margaret Baxter. Wong Lee. Satya Glasov," Face replied, listing off the names of the four missing students.

Maxwell couldn't hide the panic that swept across his features as each name was mentioned. Sweat was breaking out across his brow and he swallowed hard. "I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about, mister."

"Oh, come now, Professor. You know _everything_ about what I'm talking about. Because you're the one who hand-picked each of them for the secret project you've been working on," Face said.

"Just how much is the Baraq government paying you for your work, Maxwell? Must be an awful lot for a man like you to risk throwing away your entire career and reputation."

Maxwell was smart enough to know when he was trapped. With nervous resignation, he replied quickly, "All right, all right. So you know the story. But that doesn't explain who you are or what you want. You're not cops."

"No," Hannibal replied.

"Then whoever's paying you, I'm sure my associates can pay you at least twice as much, just to keep your mouths shut about this."

"There isn't enough money in the Federal Reserves to buy us off, Professor. We don't work that way. We just want the students back. If you cooperate with us, lead us to whoever you're working for, maybe we'll go easy on you. Maybe." Hannibal smiled coldly.

"No, I can't do that! I -"

"I think you'd better, _sucka!_ " BA insisted, leaning close over Maxwell, who slid back in his chair in terror.

"See, nothing gets BA riled up more than someone hurting defenseless kids. Right BA?" Face observed. BA growled in agreement.

"Okay! Okay! I'll do whatever you want just get him away from me!" Maxwell replied quickly.

"BA," Hannibal said, and the large man backed off slightly. "All right, Maxwell. What you're gonna do for us now is take us to wherever it is you've got those kids stashed, and make sure no one tries to take any pot shots at us along the way. You think you can handle that?"

"I, uh... of course. Of course, mister... uh..."

"Smith."

"Mister Smith. Yes." The man started to stand up, warily glancing at BA. "Just follow me and I'll take you there."

Hannibal and Face put away their weapons and followed Maxwell out the door. None of them could have realized that BA was not the only one to have bugged Maxwell's office. Indeed, the men who the professor was working for had placed listening equipment in his office when they first began their operation, to monitor the professor's behavior and make sure he did not get cold feet and try to back out of their agreement. Consequently by the time the Team members stepped out into the hallway, the two guards stationed in Maxwell's research lab across the hall were waiting for them, automatic weapons drawn and aimed directly at them.

"Drop your weapons," one of them insisted. Face groaned but complied with the order, as did BA and Hannibal.

The professor ran over to the guards. "You heard them - they threatened me! I knew you'd be listening and would get me out of this."

"What should we do with them?" one guard asked the other, as he picked up the Team's weapons.

"Kill them. What do you think?" the second guard replied, raising his gun slightly and training in on Hannibal.

"Are you crazy? Not here!" Maxwell hissed, glancing up and down the hallway. It was still early and no one else seemed to be around, but still... "Look, I have an idea. Follow me, and bring them in the lab," he ordered, entering the lab across the hall.

The guards got behind the Team members and directed them into the large laboratory. They followed Maxwell to the back of the room, where he stopped to open a large steel door. "Put them in here. No one will find them before this afternoon at the earliest - I'll tell my students the lab is being cleaned today. These guys will likely be dead the time they're found."

The Team members understood why when they were pushed inside. The room was unbelievably cold, with frozen, ice-covered biological samples stacked in racks all along the walls of the small room. The door was slammed shut and bolted behind them.

BA looked to Hannibal and said apologetically, "Sorry, man. I shoulda checked for bugs when I was in there last night. I didn't think of it."

"S'okay, BA. I should have thought of the possibility myself."

Face shivered, then turned to the colonel and asked, "Well, Hannibal, what do we do now?"

Hannibal said, "Check the door, BA." The large man tried the handle, pushing and straining against it, but had no luck forcing it open.

"No good, man. That thing's shut solid."

Face checked the door on the opposite side of the small room and found that it opened no problem - only to lead into a room that felt twice as cold as the one they were stuck in already. He quickly shut the door. "I think I'll stay in here, at least I can freeze to death slowly."

"Relax, Face," Hannibal said calmly, his breath swirling up in a frosty cloud. "Our brilliant friends out there may have taken our guns but they forgot something just as useful." Hannibal pulled out his police radio, which he had been carrying on the inside of his jacket. "My partner Lou should still be on duty and can come get us out." He smiled broadly. "Nice, isn't it?"

Face and BA just scowled at him.

* * *

Lou hurried down the corridor to room 16-310. When she got there she knocked on the door loudly several times. "Campus Police!" she hollered, but got no response. _Well, if Smith was in some kind of trouble in there, it was doubtful anyone was going to come running to let me in_ , she thought. She pulled out the keys for the lab which she picked up from the Physical Plant office on her dash over here, and unlocked the door. She noticed the blinking red light on the security device located right inside the doorway, and keyed in the police override code before the alarm went off. It was a standard security precaution in many of the labs on campus.

"Campus Police! Smith? ...Anyone? ...Hello?" she called, not seeing anyone or hearing any sounds at all in the main laboratory. She checked the small computer room off to the left of the main lab, and then headed back to the right towards the small office cubicles in the back. That's when she heard the muffled calls coming from the cold rooms off to the right of the corridor in the back of the lab complex. The steel door had a simple, if very strong bolt lock across it, which she opened quickly. She found Smith and two men she had never seen before locked inside a room that was, according to the sign outside, kept at -20 C, which was very cold indeed.

"Lou, am I glad to see you!" Smith said cheerfully. For someone who had just spent far too long in the sub-zero chamber he appeared in much too good of a mood.

" _This_ is Lou?" one of Smith's companions asked, apparently quite surprised about something. He quickly stepped out of the room, rubbing his hands together vigorously. She eyed him warily.

"Yeah, I'm Lou. Who are you?" she asked gruffly, then taking a good look at the third man. "You too," she added, wondering if she should have brought back-up.

"It's okay, Lou, they're with me," Smith reassured her.

"What's goin' on, Smith? How the hell did you end up locked in there? You could have frozen to death!"

"It's a long story, Lou, and one I don't really have time to go into right now. But thanks for the help." Smith smiled and turned to his friends and said, "Come on guys, we've got a lot of work to do and not much time."

"Right," the blonde man said, and the other man shook his head in agreement as they headed towards the door.

"Now wait, Smith -" Lou cried, not ready to be dismissed so easily. She followed them out and down into the main corridor.

"Hannibal, what are we going to do without our weapons?" the blond asked Smith.

"We'll come up with something, Face. Don't we always?"

"Of course. But usually we have a warehouse or at least a garage-full of raw materials to work with. Where are we going to find the stuff we need here?"

Hannibal thought for a moment, then an idea came to mind. "I don't know myself, Face, but I think I know some people who would." Hannibal pulled out the card he had written Janet's number down on. "When in Rome..." he said with a shrug, and headed towards the nearest campus phone.

* * *

"The machine shop is right down here," Michele indicated as she, Janet, Lou, and the Team stepped out of the elevator into the sub-basement of the Building Sixty-Six. When Janet had gotten the call for some help from Smith she had been quite surprised; she really hadn't expected the Campus Police to do anything about what happened to Murdock. But then again, she was starting to get the distinct feeling this Smith fellow really didn't have anything to do with the Campus Police after all. She also recognized the rather attractive man with Smith as she had seen him come by the dorm to talk to Murdock a few times this week.

In any event, she had known just the person to contact herself when Smith had said he needed to find some machining equipment and "spare parts." Michele was an expert on such matters, since she was working on a research project assembling instruments for analyzing fermentation reactions. Her advisor didn't have a lot of funding for undergraduate projects, so she mostly had to make do with what she could scrounge up and put together from equipment abandoned from other labs.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Steve. He's in charge of things down here. I'm sure if I talk to him he'll let you use the heavy-duty equipment."

Steve was a friendly, easy-going man in his late forties, tall and a little overweight, with thinning blonde hair and gold-rimmed glasses. He was in charge of most of the equipment in the machine shop and throughout the entire chemical engineering department. Most students who worked with him looked up to him with more respect than their own thesis advisors. He was often a lot more knowledgeable and helpful.

"Steve?" Michele called as she stepped into his office, knocking on the door.

"Hey partner!" he replied cheerily, putting down the frozen pump he was working on. "What can I do for you today?"

"Some friends and I need your help this morning, Steve, and your equipment. It's really important."

"...A matter of campus security," Hannibal put in for emphasis.

"Uh... sure, Michele, no problem. It's pretty quiet down here today. Help yourself. If you need me for anything just holler." He didn't even seem the least bit concerned, and went back to working on the pump.

"Thanks," she said, and headed towards the main machining room. "This way, guys."

None of the Team members could completely contain their delight when they saw the glorious sight before them. A huge, almost warehouse-sized room filled with every type of welding, soldering, drilling, cutting, pumping and polishing equipment they could ever need to build... just about anything.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, BA?" Hannibal said in admiration. BA was speechless and could only nod dully in agreement. "Great work, Michele. Now, how about some spare parts?"

"Anything in particular?"

"Whatever you can get your hands on."

"Well, all that junk out in the hallway there is up for grabs. And besides that, I've got a key to a room full of abandoned equipment right down the hall. I get to pick through it every now and then if I need anything for my project."

"Great. BA, come with me, let's see what we can find."

Janet put in, "I know a few people who could come help out if we need some extra hands." Hannibal agreed it was a good idea and told her to call them up.

"All right, everyone, now _someone_ tell me what this is all about or else I'm gonna put you all under arrest!" Lou yelled, finally reaching her limit of being kept in the dark. Her hand hovered over her gun for emphasis.

"For what?" Face asked.

"I don't know! ...But I'll think of something."

"Right." Hannibal looked to Face. "You stay here and explain everything to Lou, and scavenge the stuff out in the hall for anything useful. We'll be back."

Face muttered something unpleasant under his breath, sighed and then switched on a smile, not at all thrilled about being left behind with a trigger-happy lady detective.

* * *

Hannibal, BA and Michele returned to machine shop after about twenty minutes, each of them loaded down with plastic and rubber tubing, steel pipes, and various other pieces of equipment. Michele carried a large box full of nuts, clamps, and bolts of varying sizes.

Janet had returned as well, along with Bill, Richie, Chuck, and some other hackers and people from East Campus. "When I told them we were working on something to get back the missing students, everyone wanted to come help out," she explained.

"Terrific!" Hannibal said. "Face, what did you get?"

"Some of those metal desks and cabinets out there have nice steel panes; we could use them to armor-plate something." Lou had been remarkably understanding about the situation (and he had to admit he had been incredibly calm and persuasive considering the circumstances), and she hadn't immediately decided to lock him and the others up. Of course, he didn't tell her they were the A-Team, just that they were undercover investigators brought in by the administration.

Hannibal got another idea. "BA, can you go get one of those cleaning carts you were using from Physical Plant?"

"Yeah man," he replied, grinning when he realized what Hannibal must have had in mind. "I'm on it."

Hannibal turned to his waiting audience. "Folks, thank you all for coming. We've got a lot of work to do and not much time to do it." He paused, wondering how much he should say to the students. "As you must know, the Freshman picnic is this afternoon. We have reason to believe a covert military group is planning on using it as a staging ground to test a new terrorist weapon. If they are allowed to go through with their plans, the consequences could be very serious indeed. We - my associates here and I - are going to need your help setting up a counter-attack, so we can stop these creeps before they can carry out their mission. Now, there's a chance for things to get a bit hairy out there. And we don't want to put anyone in risk that isn't willing to be there. But, we need weapons, and at least a few people to help operate them when the time comes. So I'll ask now, who's with us on this one?"

The students looked to each other, and at Hannibal, and talked amongst themselves briefly. Then Richie stepped forward and said, "We're all with you. Just tell us what to do."

Hannibal grinned, and took a moment to start unwrapping a fresh cigar. "Glad to hear it, friend. Now, here's the plan..."

* * *

Murdock got the feeling something was about to happen very soon. Several new men had arrived and were talking with the other guards. Then all the guards but two left with the device, which was now finished and ready to be activated. One guard stayed in the lab with the students while the other went just outside to watch the entryway. They had been more than a little concerned about the outside security of their base after Murdock had stumbled across it. The students and Murdock were all told to sit quietly in one corner of the room. Murdock hoped the rest of the Team had figured out what was going on and would be ready to deal with the men, but just in case they didn't or needed the extra hand he knew he should try to come up with some sort of escape plan now.

He waited awhile until the guard began to look a little bored and distracted. Then he whispered to John, "I've got an idea. Play along with me, all right?"

John gave Murdock a nervous look, then glanced at the guard, who was at the moment watching the screen-saver program on one of the lab's computers. He nodded slightly.

Playing on years on experience at creating distractions, Murdock suddenly went into a convulsive fit, his whole body shaking while he moaned as if in extreme pain.

The display caught the guard's attention immediately. "What's going on?" he yelled, coming over to the group, his gun pointed at them all. "What's wrong with him?"

"...virus ...sick ...gonna die... ugh...!" Murdock managed to gasp between heaving breaths.

"I thought the stuff wasn't active yet!" the guard argued, sounding a little nervous.

"Maybe it mutated again, I don't know! He didn't get the vaccine serum that the rest of us did. He may have been exposed," John replied, having a good idea what Murdock was up to. He'd told Murdock about the vaccine they had developed as part of the project to protect themselves from the virus. He tried to hold down Murdock's thrashing body but wasn't succeeding. John said to the guard, "Look, I could use some help here! The convulsions are just gonna get worse, we'll need to restrain him."

Hesitantly, the guard got a little closer and bent down, momentarily putting aside his M16. It was all the opportunity Murdock needed. As soon as the guard was close enough, Murdock swung at him and landed a solid blow to his face. The surprised guard tumbled to the ground, and Murdock was on him instantly, disarming him before he could fully understand what was happening. The other guard came running in moments later after hearing the commotion but found his associate incapacitated and Murdock with the large gun trained on him.

"Drop it or loose it, bucko," Murdock insisted, and the guard complied with little hesitation. He could see the man was serious. Cautiously, Murdock approached him and picked up the other guard's rifle, never taking his eyes off the man. Then with his gun he indicated for the man to get away from the door.

Murdock spied some heavy-duty electrical tape on the edge of one of the bench tops. He instructed John to use it to tie up the two guards while he kept the gun pointed at them. The rest of the students watched the whole proceedings in disbelief, none even allowing themselves to breathe a sigh of relief until both guards were bound hand and foot.

"Okay everyone, time to blow this joint," Murdock told them, giving the second gun to John to carry. "We've got to get out to the picnic before anything goes down." They all complied quickly and got to their feet, following Murdock out past the incapacitated guards and into the low-ceilinged exit way. After weeks of imprisonment they were all exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, but determined nevertheless to get out and stop the terrorists' plan.

* * *

Killian Court was still deserted an hour before the Freshman picnic was to begin. Tables had been set up that morning, but the sandwiches, soda, and ice cream would not be put out until the last minute to avoid being easy-pickings for upperclassmen out for a free meal. High above the courtyard a large banner had been raised by a group of hackers the night before to greet the incoming class members: "ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE" it proclaimed prophetically.

The quiet state of the courtyard was just perfect, at least for the men wearing stolen Physical Plant uniforms trying to find an appropriate spot to place the bomb. They ended up choosing a location not far from the steps where the students would all assemble for a class picture at the beginning of the picnic.

"This is a perfect spot," Khalid proclaimed. "Activate the device at the right moment, right after the photograph, and we can be assured that everyone present is exposed to the bacteria. No one will suspect a thing. Our guards are already in place throughout the courtyard to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Maxwell looked around and scratched his head nervously. He noted several men around the bushes that edged the courtyard, pretending to be busy trimming them or cleaning up litter. "Yeah, well, you've got the device, now I'm gettin' out of here. I've got a flight to catch and a trip to the bank to make first. You're sure, Khalid, that the money's all there?"

"Yes, Professor, of course. My associates made all the necessary arrangements. You will be well-provided for thanks to your assistance on this project. Are you sure you won't stay around to bear witness to the first test of the device?"

"No, that's quite all right, Khalid. I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible, vaccine or no vaccine." Maxwell was still wary of the three men he had locked up in the laboratory earlier that morning. Not that he had any real reason to suspect they weren't still in there, and close to death from exposure by this point, but he didn't want to take any chances. "See you around, fellas," he said in parting as he headed up the steps.

"Not so fast, Professor," a voice called loudly from somewhere overhead. The men all looked around, confused. The guards with Maxwell and Khalid pulled out their weapons.

"Heads up, dirtbags," the voice came again. Maxwell looked up at the dome, and thought he could make out one figure standing along the ledge near where the banner had been hung. "We're here to rain on your picnic."

"Who the hell is that?" Khalid asked angrily.

Maxwell couldn't see the man clearly but he had a sinking suspicion as to who it was. "I, er... don't know, but..."

"Shoot him, whoever he is," Khalid ordered one of his guards. The man lifted his gun and aimed at the figure, finger near the trigger...

Then he dropped to the ground as an explosion rang out through the courtyard. The men got back to their feet and looked towards the other end of the courtyard to find a strange, menacing-looking vehicle entering the courtyard and heading in their direction. Flames shot forth from the two large turrets at the front of the vehicle. It was impossible to see who was driving it even as it neared them, for it was completely covered in thick metallic plating.

"Get them! Whoever they are, kill them!" Khalid screeched angrily. He could see his great plans for this day crumbling away and would make sure whoever was responsible paid dearly for the interruption.

The guards in the brushes started firing madly on the vehicle. The ones on the left side were so intent on their target that they didn't notice the group of students, led by Templeton Peck, that snuck out of the side exit into the courtyard behind them, armed with jerry-rigged, spring-activated automatic weapons that fired three-quarter-inch ball bearings, the kind often used as pinballs. The two guards were knocked unconscious by balls to the backs of their heads before they knew what was going on. The two guards on the right side met a similar fate when a group of students led by Lou made their surprise attack. Lou made a point of knocking out one of the men personally by whacking him hard with a steel pipe she'd grabbed in the machine shop.

At the same time, Khalid and his men in the center of the court were being attacked from above. They couldn't see how many of them were up along the ledge of the dome, but they kept dropping devices that exploded like grenades down at them. What they didn't realize was that the devices were just harmless if noisy "Sodium Bombs," made with slices of pure, solid sodium and liquid water. The explosion came about when the two components were mixed upon impact with the ground, an old hacker's trick. Between the bombs and the flames from the approaching vehicle, the terrorists didn't know where to turn.

"Grab the device, and let's get the hell out of here!" Khalid ordered. Maxwell and the three guards with Khalid complied quickly, heading towards the main doorway. They were stopped by a barrage of gun-fire as Murdock and John Walker stood waiting, M16's pointed at the fleeing men.

"Drop your weapons!" Murdock insisted, and the men complied quickly. They knew when they had been defeated.

"Nice entrance, Captain," Hannibal called down from up above where he had watched the whole proceedings. Murdock grinned and gave the colonel a thumbs-up.

Lou came running up the lawn towards Khalid and Maxwell and the guards. "As an officer of the Campus Police force I'm placing you all under arrest. You have the right to remain silent..." she began to recite.

Face and the students that had led the attacks along the sides of the courtyard followed Lou. As Janet drew close she spotted Murdock and John. She was so relieved to see they were all right she took off at a sprint towards them. John put down his rifle when he saw her and grabbed her in a big hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she cried happily. "Both of you!"

"The other three kids are going to be okay too," explained Murdock. "I told them all to go over the Med. Center and check themselves in."

"Lou, you got those bozos under control?" Hannibal called from above.

"Yeah, no problem, Smith!" she replied loudly. "With some of these kids' help they won't be goin' nowhere for the next few minutes until the rest of the CP's get here."

"Good. Okay guys, let's make ourselves scarce. Thanks for all the help, everyone. You guys were all terrific." A cheer went up around the courtyard as all the students celebrated the success of the operation. "But remember, you did this all on your own, you never saw any of us, understood?" Hannibal had told them all not to mention their involvement in the operation, although he had not explained exactly why. And for not the first time in the past week, Hannibal laughed and said, "I love it when a plan comes together!"

* * *

Life quickly returned back to normal after the arrest of the terrorists. The administration did a bang-up job of covering up the whole affair as much as possible, concerned as always over protecting their fine and safe reputation as a learning institution. If they had had any knowledge of what Maxwell and the others had been up to, they managed to destroy any evidence of it very quickly. The Team was given their payment in full, and Hannibal couldn't help but wonder if some of the cash they received in a large, black briefcase had originally come from the terrorists. The Baraq government denied any knowledge of what had happened and offered no support to Khalid, Professor Maxwell, or the others, claiming they had all acted on their own and were members of a radical underground group. The students who had been missing checked out to be fine, and they all signed agreements that released the Institute from any liability towards what had happened to them and in return were given free tuition and rooming for the rest of their time at MIT. The fiasco in the courtyard, which caused the picnic to be relocated that afternoon to football field, was explained away as a hack that had gotten out of hand. The students that helped the Team took full responsibility for what had happened (although the administration and the CP's were instructed by President Graves not to punish them in any way), and BA's modified cleaning cart made the cover of "The Tech," the campus newspaper, the following day.

Murdock stuffed a copy of The Tech into his backpack to keep as a memento as he finished packing his stuff away. He heard the knock on the door, which was half open. "Come on in," he responded. He looked up and saw it was Janet. "Hey Jan, what's up?"

She gave her usual indifferent shrug. "Wasn't sure you were still here or not. Wanted to say good-bye before you left. Where are you off to, anyway?"

"Back home to LA."

"Really? I've never been out on the west coast before..." she said absently as she walked over to the desk, flipping through the stack of comic books Murdock had yet to put away. "I figured it out, you know. Those friends of yours are the A-Team, aren't they?"

Murdock looked at her, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"Us computer geeks know everything, remember?" She smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to turn them in or make a big stink about it. But it is pretty amusing, the administration having to hire the A-Team to solve their problems." She sat up on top of the table and looked at him curiously. "But I haven't figured out who _you_ are yet."

"I was their pilot back in 'Nam. I still help them out on missions sometimes."

"Then how come you're not wanted by the Military Police?"

"Because they don't know, or at least they don't have enough evidence to prove I was involved. Besides, I'm committed."

"Committed to the Team?"

"No, to the psychiatric ward of the VA Hospital. I'm crazy."

"Oh," Janet said, nodding in understanding. "That explains things. Especially why you fit in so well around here."

"So, things are gonna get back to 'normal' around here now, you think?" Murdock asked her.

"Yeah, soon enough, I suppose. But, I think one good thing came out of this whole business after all."

"Oh?"

"Mm hmm," she said with a sly grin. "John's decided that maybe he needs to reevaluate his priorities, and that research work isn't the most important thing in his life anymore. As a result... well, we're now officially 'an item,' you might say."

Murdock grinned back at her. "Congratulations!"

There was another knock at the door, and this time it was Face. "Hey Murdock, you ready to go? Hannibal's already got BA ready to fly and they're waiting in a cab outside..." he stopped when he saw Janet sitting there. "Oh, hello."

"Hi."

"Yeah, I'm ready." Murdock threw his last few odds and ends into his bag, then gave Janet a good-bye hug. "Bye, Jan, it was neat gettin' to know you guys. Good luck to you and John. If I'm ever in town again I'll have to come visit, do some more hacking. And tell Chuck he owes me a rematch on 'River Raid' someday."

"I will. It's been interesting, Murdock. And if you guys ever need the help of some hackers, let me know. I have friends who have broken into military computers before, maybe they could even clear up your records for you."

"We'll keep that in mind." Murdock grinned, and Face gave them both a puzzled look as the two men left. Murdock was calling for Billy to follow him. Janet stayed in the room for a while, the warm summer breeze feeling good as she sat there up on the table. Well, at least the summer had turned out to be a little more interesting than she thought it was going to be. She was going to have to write to her good friend Monica back in New York about this past week, that was for sure. Who knows, maybe even put together a story about it someday. She could probably get it printed in "Voo Doo," the campus humor magazine, at the very least. She got up finally and went to close the window, struggling with it until it finally came crashing down. Right before she closed it completely, she could have sworn she heard a dog barking loudly somewhere outside.


End file.
